#it's okay in a pinch but it's really. really not good

[writingroom21]

hey,can i request stepbrother rafe catch reader using vibrator

“Mhmm”

Your little moans and the buzzing from the vibrator pressed to your clit fill the room. The house was empty and you took the opportunity to have some alone time. The light purple vibrator keeps stimulating you as your imagination goes wild. A tall shadow can be seen if you focus enough. Their hands touching your skin, their voice encouraging you to go further. A loud moan slips from your lips as you imagine that someone is there helping you get off.

“Oh shit.” The voice and the sound of something falling startles you causing the vibrator to go flying from your hand. When glancing at the door you see Rafe standing there with wide eyes looking at you. Your eyes rack his body noting he probably just came back from the gym. Bending down he reaches for his phone that fell from his hands as you try to cover yourself up. The vibrator is still buzzing on the floor next to your bed. His eyes watch it before meeting you. Both of you stand there not really knowing what to say. “Rafe.” You try to think of something but what can you say?

Hey, sorry that you just walked in on me getting myself off. No that’s not it because you aren’t sorry. He’s the one who should have knocked and it's natural what you are doing. Or maybe let’s never bring this up again and don’t tell my mom or your dad. Yeah, that seems like a better option. You go to open your mouth again but he stops you. “Show me.” With quick strides he’s by your bedside picking up the vibrator and placing it in your hand. Slowly he guides it back to your clit but doesn’t press into it. “Rafe, what are you doing?” His eyes look dark and his chest is heaving.

“I want you to show me how you make yourself cum.” Without second guessing you press the silicon material to your clit. The vibrations cause a moan to leave your lips. Which seemed to be like the best choice since Rafe couldn’t hold back his groans. What would your mom say if she caught you too right now? Oh god what would Ward say? You may not like him but he’s still married to your mom. This is crossing way too many lines and if they found out it could be bad. “That’s it baby. Increase the speed and lightly circle your clit.” You clinch around nothing as you follow his instructions.

Normally you don’t go past the third level but you are starting to wish you did. This was a whole new sense of pleasure. You can hear your moans and the sound of Rafe’s heavy breathing over the soft buzzing. He’s looking at you like it’s killing him not to touch you. You clench again around nothing as you whine out his name. “You’ll be okay. Pinch your nipple, hard.” He demanded as he squeezed his dick through his shorts. Following his demand your left hand finds your nipple, pinching it hard and twisting a bit. Rafe’s voice is faintly heard as you focus on the impending orgasim clawing its way out of you.

Suddenly his hand is placed on your inner thigh. “There you go. Fuck you look so pretty when you listen.” One of his fingers brushes your slit and that was enough to send you into orbit. Your orgasim comes crashing down on you in waves. It eases for a moment to come back at full force. He places a hand over your to keep the vibrator to your clit. Rafe watches in awe as he sees you repeatedly clench around nothing. In the next moment he was flicking the vibrator off and finding himself between your legs. He gives you a teasing like testing how you taste on his tongue. “What are you doing?”

“Worked up a big appetite at the gym. Why don’t you be a good girl and help your step brother out.”

Taglist : @rafedaddy01 @rrafeswhore @10ava01 @selfcontollover07

Let me know if you want to be added

[kitkat13001]

Dunno if my Eren request for the event went through😭😭My Tumblr started acting up but I was requesting Eren and 26) Nutcrackers if you're okay with that!

ꨄ 𝚗𝚞𝚝𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛𝚜 | 𝚎. 𝚓𝚊𝚎𝚐𝚎𝚛

>> modern au 

initially, you were nervous about spending the holidays with the jaeger family. you and eren had been together a while, and you’d met his mother already, but the stories he’s told you about his dad and his brother made you a little nervous. more than anything, you really just wanted to make a good impression. 

it turns out that you had nothing to worry about though, just like eren had assured you. his mom is very sweet, just like you remember, and while his dad is kind of intense and his brother is somewhat abrasive, they both make an effort to get to know you and be civil in your company. 

it’s been a great and festive time at the jaeger house. you’ve baked cookies, wrapped presents, watched holiday movies and all. tonight, the five of you had gone out to see the ballet, as is their family tradition. 

“my dad and zeke can’t stand the ballet,” eren whispers in your ear as you walk back, arm in arm. “but it’s my mom’s favorite thing ever so we go every year.”

“really?” you ask. “that’s so sweet! your family is so cute.”

eren shrugs but you catch the way his cheeks turn pink. you grin at him, pinching his cheeks between your fingers and cooing at him teasingly while he tries to push you away. 

“hey, lovebirds!” you freeze when you hear zeke call out in a bored voice. “hurry it up back there or we’re leaving you in the snow.”

you and eren rush to follow them back to the car, laughing into each other’s shoulders the whole time. 

hi anon! hope you like this one 🫶 sorry it’s a bit shorter than normal, im a little frantic trying to get these out and still getting over being sick. thanks for the love and happy holidays!! - kitty !

[its-weeping]

— 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐋𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐗 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒. | suna rintaro

cw. mdni, slight making out, hickey, pet name (pretty girl), suna is being a tease, dry humping, cursing

notes. 𐙚⋆°. been a while hehe. anyways, here's a lil suna draft!

it's been a while since you felt his skin on yours, since he's been able to properly hold you. five days or perhaps six? the days oddly bled together as suna's workload piled up.

practice games, training, your boyfriend couldn't get a day off and in turn you missed him— missed how he would always press a kiss on your lips before leaving for the day. nowadays it was all fleeting touches and small pecks on your temple.

this pent up sexual frustration was quickly becoming a problem, for both of you. your boyfriend knew you were pent up and he couldn't deny he was too. but despite his nearing breaking point, he kept his composure, showed fortitude as suna honestly wanted to see just how long you could last.

it's then when you bid him goodbye as you always did whenever he left for practice, that suna seemed to recognize a sense of want— something telling him that you wanted more of it badly. and when your tongue slipped into his mouth, deepening the kiss, suna had to stop himself.

"careful now," he mumbles, breath hot against your face when he pulls away. you're looking at him with half lidded eyes, face flushed and wanting.

suna tilts his head, keeping an innocent display while he resists a smirk, "what's up with you?"

you let out a huff and lean in but he draws back slightly, enough to leave you pouting.

"i just.. wanted to show you some love." you utter and give a shameless shrug. suna hums as his hands slide down your hips, then your lower back, quickly finding your ass. he gives it a squeeze and you gasp and dig your fingers into his shoulders.

"show me some love, huh?" he grins, cock twitching at the mere thought and he can't help but stare at your now exposed neck when you tilt your head up to meet his eyes.

he knows your doing it on purpose, to rattle him, break him, make him give into his desires. and shit he's already fallen so deep into your trap because then he's pressing open mouth kisses along your jawline, exploring further down to your collarbone. you mewl at the sensation, the warm, wet muscle was sucking and licking at your skin and god it feel so good having been so long.

suna chuckles, it vibrates against your skin—he's found your pulse point and you're whimpering when he begins biting the area. he's got a leg shoved in between your thighs already and you give a shameless moan when it nudges your cunt.

suck. lick. bite. repeat. suna only leans back after a deep reddening mark appears on your neck. his eyes are clouded, his breath is heavy, yet he pulls away and adjusts himself soundly.

"i'm gonna be late to practice, pretty girl."

he couldn't give in first.

"rin," you practically whisper in worship, "please."

you're laying your stomach flat on his, arching up as an invitation and suna can just feel your tits squeezing against his broad chest. and he's contemplating it— that you know because he's kneading the swell of your ass and it's getting your panties all the more soaked with how your cunt is begging for attention.

fuck, was he torturing you?

with how long suna was constricting his movements to just groping you, you would have thought he was doing it on purpose.

desperation was seeping out from all over you, a painful, throbbing desperation that had you ramming your clothed pussy onto suna's thigh, pinching your own together around him to try and relieve yourself. your boyfriend makes a noise at this, a low, unsteady sort of a noise in surprise when he feels you slowly start to grind on him.

suna's eyes are observing you, your hurried movements and how you're beginning to influence him, the bulge in his shorts making it all the more obvious. his eyes shift to the clock behind you, twenty minutes— twenty minutes until he really has to leave.

goddamnit, okay.

much like a fox ready to pounce on its prey, suna is fucking hungry.

"one round. that's it. but– don't think when i get back you aren't getting fucked till dawn."

product of its-weeping ;༊ | do not plagiarize or translate.

post-notes. send requests pls i wanna start writing again 🙁 (there's a list of fandoms i can write for on my pinned!)

[sillydizzybxtches]

Fuck My Life (FML)

WARNINGS: pure fluff and comfort, mutual pining, reader is sick A/N? - 1.3k words + gn!reader, college!au !! towa bird reference(s) if u squint ⯌ summary: while reneé's best friend might be sick, she'll never be afraid to comfort and take care of her.

Believe it or not, today was supposed to be a good day.

The first thing to hit you when you woke up was a wave of nausea; then came the pounding headache, the aching of your muscles, and the urge to throw yourself off a cliff. Your stomach twisted and knotted in ungodly ways, which immediately pulled your aching limbs back into bed. You groaned, seeking comfort in curling against the havoc of blankets.

You took a moment to recover from the nausea, pinching the bridge of your nose. When you tried moving again, your limbs felt like they were on fire and your head felt like it might fall off your shoulders. Fine; you really were sick.

To be fair, you hadn’t felt this way in a while; you barely got sick, so it felt unfair to complain. And as much as you tried to peel yourself out of bed, your body ached when you tried to move. The thought of pushing through a day of classes or potentially getting others sick didn't help, either. You ran out of medicine from the last time you got sick, and you would've asked your dormmate and best friend, Reneé, to go get some for you, but just your luck; she left for class early this morning.

You stayed curled up in bed for a while. You knew you needed to check your temperature, take medicine, all of that good shit—but it was hard not to get demotivated by the cruelty of having to activate over 200 muscles just to get out of bed. Eventually, you managed to grab your phone and clamber out of bed, despite tripping over god knows what, and stumbled to the kitchen.

You fumbled with the thermometer for a good six seconds, then your eyes widened when your temperature read 102.7°. Where the fuck did the fever come from? Did it literally pop up overnight? Whatever, you’d just have to do what you could to break it.

Shuffling through the cabinet, you realized that it hadn’t been restocked since the last time you were sick; this had to be the devil’s timing. To no one's surprise, it wasn't long before Reneé started blowing up your phone.

nae baby, where are you? you haven't shown up to class. is everything okay? n/n i'm fine, i think i'm js sick is all

nae did u take any meds?

n/n we’re out lmao

nae omw.

You threw your phone on the counter and put your face in your hands. You would’ve told Reneé that it was fine, especially since you didn’t know if you were contagious, but your head throbbed like it was going to burst, and your stomach felt like it was being clawed from the inside—not to mention that Reneé was the most stubborn and determined person on Earth. Plus, the comfort of your best friend would help. It always did.

Begrudgingly, you gathered the motivation to walk back to your room and flop down on the mattress, burying your face in your pillow.

It didn’t take long for Reneé to get back to the dorm; she snagged some Tylenol and Ibuprofen from the CVS down the street and quickly let herself in. She refused to take any chances when it came to you.

“N/N?” She called out, walking around the suite. When she didn’t hear a response, she went to your room, which explained everything pretty well. You’d fallen asleep in a span of five minutes. She swore you could fall asleep within seconds.

Reneé sat on the edge of your bed and gently shook you awake. You lifted your head and sighed, cracking a smile when you realized she was there. “Hey, baby,” Reneé hummed as she looked down at you. “How are you feeling?”

“Hey, Nae. I feel shitty,” You giggled. You sat up and rubbed your eyes, clutching your stomach as it twisted. “I feel like the devil is tossing a salad in my stomach, and my brain feels like it’s literally on fire. That’s so cute, right?” You scoffed playfully. Reneé chuckled and rolled her eyes as she brought a hand to your forehead. You felt your heart flutter but pushed the feeling down and focused on getting better. She was just checking on you, that was it—and from the look on Reneé’s face, you didn’t need a thermometer to know you were burning up.

The blonde opened the Ibuprofen and handed you a few pills, along with the bottle of water on your dresser.

“What was your temp?” Reneé asked, concern etched on her face. You downed the pills before answering. “102.7 or some shit,” You sighed. Her brows raised in alarm. “Okay … did you eat?” You shook your head. “No, I don’t want to get sick.”

Reneé asked a few more questions, most of your answers being no because, well, you were sick. She went to the kitchen shuffled through the pantry to make chicken noodle soup for you. At first, you dreaded the idea of eating in fear of throwing up, but you did it anyway; it was amazing, to say the least.

“That’s why we listen to me,” Reneé teased.

You weren’t surprised when Reneé told you she was staying. Honestly, you appreciated it. You loved how caring and protective she was toward you, how she’d give up everything to be by your side. Just being with Reneé made you feel better, even if you physically felt like you’d been hit by a bus twelve times over.

The two of you curled up in bed and picked a random movie to watch together—Jennifer’s Body, to be exact.

Her warmth was the most comforting thing. You snuggled against her, resting your head on her shoulder and tangling your legs together. The contact made your brain feel fuzzy, but in a good way … in a soft, relieving way. You weren’t sure you’d ever loved anyone like you loved Reneé.

“Jennifer is so hot,” You murmured with a giggle, plenty loud enough for Reneé to hear. She quirked her brow gripped your chin, tilting her head down at you. “Oh, is she?” She hummed teasingly. You held eye contact for a few seconds that felt like centuries; her emerald green eyes, filled with flecks of olive and gray, were beyond mesmerizing. Like a dozen galaxies packed into one beautiful universe.

Your heart thudded at an ungodly speed before you responded. “Fine, I’m sorry,” You scoffed, leaning against her. Reneé smirked and chuckled smugly, releasing your chin to pat your head. “That's what I thought, baby,” She teased, biting her lip as she turned back to the screen.

It took everything in you to pretend like that didn’t make your stomach flutter. It was all friendly, and you knew that. You just loved and appreciated Reneé, really; that was all.

It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep—though Reneé was surprised you lasted as long as you did. She looked down at you, a soft smile curling her lips. You looked so peaceful, so content; she’d kiss you if you weren’t sick.

The feel of your warmth against hers and the way you buried your head in her neck made her own eyes heavy. Reneé tightened her grip around your waist, rested her chin on your head, and let the movie blur into the background. She'd never been happier to have you in her life, and she was glad she could help. She hated when you weren't happy and felt like this.

In a few minutes, she was asleep against you, breathing soft as snow while her chest rose and fell. You both wished you could stay like this forever, tangled in each other's limbs and warmth. You were convinced being sick had never felt so good.

[aleisters]

i am making the sappy post about darby, finally.

the shoot love in wrestling is something that really gets to me. and it really gets to me with darby because he's a quintessential underdog. like, shoot he used to be a loner and honestly kind of a loser and a guy with an ugly personality. he can be awkward and stuttering and lisping and he has a really fucking mixed bag of tattoos.

if you go back and watch old interviews with him, he's borderline extremely unpleasant, he's rude and obnoxious, it's often demonstrably clear that he's not happy for some reason or another. he's never really mean to the interviewer, but "shows up to the facetime interview from his bed" is like. okay.

but after he joined aew, he started getting better. for the past year and a half especially he's become someone you can trust with things. he's smiley, he doesn't talk deep and slow to account for his lisp anymore. he's trusted to do things, to do media interviews, to carry around belts, to say he wants to be world champ, to represent aew in the climbing of mount everest. tony khan is paying for some (if not all?) of his mountain climbing training. that's insane.

and i don't think you get who darby is today - outwardly generous (he has random people staying with him all the time, to learn to wrestle, to lose weight with his help, whatever they want), smiley and friendly and personable - without the shoot love. you don't have who darby is today without the fact that tony khan believes in him so much. without his idolisation of jon moxley, and that moxley believes in him for real too. you don't get it without darby being trusted to work with sting - sting! the iconic wrestler sting! and then sting trusting darby's opinion that sting can return to in-ring wrestling (instead of just cinematic amtches). in the present, darby is training sting's son to wrestle. all of that is love.

there's love with the bucks too, who wanted to hire him, who love that he skateboards and stuck up for him incorporating that into his gimmick. who have wanted to wrestle with him before and then got to do that multiple times this year. darby who appears in the background of bte doing stuff like building skateboards for matt. who nick does all the primary checking-on during stunts in their matches. darby can't manage to kayfabe say a bad word about them, he's like "yeah the bucks hired me and i'm so grateful for everything they've done and they're amazing. btw they suck yeah boo hiss evps" it's fucking... cute...

and darby and brody have such a long and deep friendship that they can't wrestle without brody making some proclamation about how they're going to do it forever. brody has a tattoo about darby. eddie kingston had darby for about 1 match before becoming a Ruffling His Hair guy. adam copeland went one step further and said i'd had this boy for one match and i'm going to cuddle him and kiss him on tv. ridiculous sweet stuff.

i'm not putting darby on a pedestal, because he's fallible and imperfect and he's done weird and bad stuff, but i'm not using this post to talk about something that requires a genuine nuanced conversation, i'm using it to talk pathetic and wax romantic about my number one favourite wrestler.

i think he is one of those people who you can really shoot see the development of from an unfriendly gremlin into like, a gremlin that everyone loves for some reason. everyone around him loves him and wants to give him good opportunities and he pays that back so much, as often as possible. he does it by being the pinch hitter when nobody else is right for it, even at the expense of his own body. he does it by raising money for the skateparks that saved him as a kid. he does it by looking after the people around him - making sure his parents never have to work again. he does it by wrestling well, at the top of his game and still improving.

and i'm soft and i believe that love did all that. i think without the people who love him he'd still be a weird off-putting little mess.

and i hope 2025 is his year. i wanna see him at the top of every mountain he wants to climb.

[shartletswritings]

You've Dug Your Own Grave

Chapter 6: Coincidences

TW: Smut MERRY CHRISTMASSS (If you celebrate. I BARELY do, but happy holidays regardless!!) I hope you guys enjoy! I also wrote a little smutty One Shot that you can find here!

            Your first thought as you are slowly awoken by rustling sheets is how nice it is, to have a strong, steady hand wrapped around your belly, to feel the warmth of another body pressed into yours. Your second thought rockets through your brain with significantly more force: why the hell is there someone in my bed?

            You bolt up and twist your body to look at the sleeping form behind you. Right… Last night… we… You could swear you flush from your tits to your hairline as the events of the previous night slam their way back into your brain.

            Once you have wallowed in shame for a sufficient amount of time, you take the moment to appreciate the man laying asleep besides you. His face, always so twisted in anger and annoyance, rests peacefully; the lines faded into smooth angles. Your eyes follow the curve of his neck, down to the raw strength barely covered by the gray skin of his arms. He stirs slightly and you draw your attention back to his face, watching the way his brows furrow for a moment before relaxing again. His ears seem to droop ever so slightly, and you reach a hand towards them, accepting the risk of waking him and ruining the moment.

            The skin along the tip is thin and shockingly smooth between your fingers. You drag a finger down to the metal stud at the base when a voice startles you, “Tickles when you do that.” His voice is deliciously thick from sleep and his eyelids crack open just enough to watch you. You sit back up straight; wanting to pull back from him out of embarrassment, but the hand wrapped around your waist constricts, pulling you back into his chest.

            Green eyes stare into yours for longer than you expected before his lips press into yours gently. With another yank, he pulls you onto his body. You yelp at the sudden pressure on your injured thigh and he pulls back immediately. “Fuck… I forgot… sorry,” he stutters out, brows knotted in concern and eyes now wide awake.

            You look up at him as he hovers over you, assessing your condition. “I’m okay, really.” He looks at you in disbelief but relents when you press your hands into his cheeks and pull him down into another kiss. He smiles against your lips and begins to trail a hand down your naked form. Shifting your head, you press a kiss to the underside of his jaw “Think I could get a good look at you now?” You murmur against his skin as his fingers begin to delve into your still swollen cunt.

            Just as the pads of his fingers find purchase at the very tip of your core, a knock sounds at the door. Ekko’s voice follows soon after, calling your name. “You ok in there? We need to talk.” The two of you freeze, eyes locked on one another for a sickening moment of uncertainty.

            Your eyes go wide and you scramble out from under Scar, desperately searching for clothes you could throw over your naked body. Where the hell did I leave my shirt? You glance back at Scar, who is sitting on your bed and desperately trying not to laugh. You glare at him as Ekko calls again from the other side of the wooden door. “Just a second!” You yell, throwing the first shirt you can find over your head and dragging Scar into the bathroom to hide him.

            He pinches your ass as you turn to open the door and you whip around, fighting back the urge to sock him. He holds up his hands in mock innocence and you press a finger to his lips, warning him to shut up.

            You open the door, blocking Ekko’s view into the room, and his eyes go wide. “Hey, sorry to… wake you,” he hesitates, and you cock your head at him until he regains his composure, “I wanted to check in on you. Eve said she saw you get shot, are you okay?”

            Looking down at yourself, you realize too late that you neglected to put pants on. Thankfully the shirt drapes down to your mid thighs, but still what the fuck was I thinking? You lift the shirt just high enough to display the bandage, “Yeah. Bullet grazed me. I’m fine.”

            He sucks in a breath, “Right… are you sure?” He doesn’t look convinced.

            You pull the bandage down slightly to show him the wound. It looks… not as bad as last night. The gash is no longer bleeding, but it’s red and angry looking. “Seriously, this is nothing.” You look back up into those concerned, brown eyes and offer him a smile, “I promise, Ekko. I’m okay.”

            He rubs the back of his neck and nods. “There’s something else.” His eyes dart away uncertainly. You don’t like that one bit. Ekko is many things, but he isn’t unsure of himself. “It’s about Scar.” Your stomach drops. Does he know? Were you too loud last night? He continues, “I saw the two of you fighting last night and… I didn’t wanna have to say this again, but you two seriously need to work out whatever the hell you’ve got going on. I can’t have these issues between my soldiers.”

            A laugh threatens to bubble up in your throat, but you swallow it back down. “Understood sir. I let it get out of hand last night.” Your face flushes, not like that dammit. “I’ll… talk to him.”

            He exhales and seems to relax slightly, “Thank you. I hate having to be on peoples’ asses about stuff like that.” He drops a hand to your shoulder, “You and Scar are both invaluable to the Firelights, and I really think you could do amazing things together if you could get over your issues.” You bite down at the inside of your cheek to keep from squealing at the compliment, I’m important to the Firelights!

            Unfortunately, the glow of his praise is stamped out by a thump behind you, coming from inside of your room. You cringe and Ekko looks at you with a mix of humor and disbelief, “Is there someone in there?”

            You can feel the blood drain out of your face, “Nope! I gotta shower, see you later?” You blurt out before shutting the door in his face.

            Scar is standing behind you, one leg in his pants and a hand grasping the wall for support. This fucking idiot couldn’t wait five seconds? You bring a hand to the bridge of your nose and wait for Ekko’s footsteps to fade down the hall.

            Once it’s quiet outside the door, you stomp forward towards Scar who is still fighting back a laugh. “You fucking idiot,” you hiss, pressing a finger into the bare skin of his chest, “You think this is funny?”

            He breaks into a laugh, unable to contain himself anymore. Your heart clenches despite your irritation. This is the first time you’ve seen him really, truly laugh and… fuck you could get used to it. The way his chest shakes as he throws a hand back onto the wall to support himself as he bends over. You press your tongue into your cheek to keep from giggling yourself, I’m mad at him dammit.

            “Are you done?” You ask, cocking a hip and looking up at him.

            He runs a hand down his face and looks at you, “Go look at yourself in the mirror, Kir.”

            With a glare you walk into the bathroom and for the second time in two days, nearly scream at the person looking back at you. The low cut of your shirt reveals the splatter of red and purple marks along your neck, evidence of Scar’s lips and teeth on your skin. You bring a hand to your mouth to stifle your gasp. “Oh fuck, I look like I was attacked by a suckerfish!” You spin around to glare at the man who is still doubled over laughing. “Asshole! Don’t laugh!” You slam your fists into his chest, which only manages to hurt your knuckles instead of him.

            It’s not that you’re embarrassed to sleep with him… it’s just… you’re shocked by your own behavior. Really, the guy knows nothing about you. He could be crazy, you could be crazy. The two of you barely know each other and you let him fuck you? What were you thinking? What are the other Firelights gonna think? That you’re some Hush Company whore that went from one man to the next probably. Maybe you should just leave… leave Zaun and go somewhere totally different. I’ve heard people like me can disappear in Bilgewater.

            Scar seemed to notice your spiraling, “Kirranari!” His voice is harsh, in contrast to the gentle hand placed on your cheek to bring your gaze up to him. “You okay?”

            You nod wordlessly, eyes still unfocused.

            He shakes you this time and you snap your attention back to him. “What’s going on?”

            You shake your head, pushing his hands away, “I’m okay. Promise. Just a bit outa sorts.” You glance down at your leg, you’ve gotta clean that. “You should get back to Aster. I can take care of myself, honest.” You offer him a half-assed smile.

            Concern flashes over his face before his features return to their usual stoic posture. “Right.”

            He steps away and something squeezes around your gut painfully. Ignore that. He throws the rest of his clothes on and opens the door to leave, “Come to my room once you’re cleaned up. And don’t run away again, okay? I can’t stand that shit.” He leaves before you can ask where exactly his quarters are.

            Showering is more difficult than you were expecting. Yes, the water stings the bullet wound, but that you can handle. It’s the complete ache in your body that sets you off kilter. Even after you have scrubbed Scar’s smell off of your skin, his presence remains deep inside of you. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it.

            You take care to bandage your leg up like Scar did last night and once you’re satisfied that the bandage won’t fall off on its own, you turn your attention to the rest of your appearance. There isn’t much you can do about the angry red welts along your neck, and it’s too fucking hot out to get away with wearing a sweater. You’ll just have to own it… whatever that means.

            “It’s fine,” you tell your reflection as you pull a shirt over your head, “You’re an adult, and it’s no one’s business anyways.” You’re not so sure you believe yourself.

            The sun beats down heavily as you walk out into the courtyard; summer is rearing its ugly, stinking head. Summer is pretty tolerable when you’re topside, but down in the undercity it wafts the perpetual stink of the sumps up through the whole fucking city. Not even the hideout is safe, although you have to admit it’s a hell of a lot better under the shade of the tree than the rest of the city.

            You hold your head high as you walk out, determined to not let your appearance get to you. You need to find someone to tell you where the hell Scar lives, sure you could go door to door in your hallway, but you aren’t in the mood to see twenty faces and answer all their questions before you’ve even eaten. Instead, you decide, you’ll find someone nonjudgemental, swallow your pride, and ask them where you can find Scar.

            Unfortunately, someone finds you before you get five steps out into the morning air. “Heya pip, you do- woah!” It’s Jordyn, “Looks like you had a good night.” They put their hands on their hips and beam a toothy smile down at you.

            Blonde waves spill down from the messy knot you usually see them wearing, but shockingly, you feel nothing. Strange, yesterday I coulda been convinced to jump their bones if they asked nice enough. You glare up at them—purely for appearances—and they laugh. “Raid went well, thanks for asking,” you fold your arms over your chest, suddenly feeling self-conscious despite all your mental encouragement.

            “Yeah, about that, you alright? Heard you took a hit.” Sharp blue eyes trail down your form, probably trying to assess your condition.

            “I wish people would stop asking me that, I’m fine, okay?” Your voice is harsher than you meant it to be and they shrink back slightly. You sigh, “Sorry, it was just… a long night.”

            “I can tell,” they quip.

            You sigh, pushing your still wet hair back, “Look, can you just tell me where Scar lives?”

            They shoot you a suspicious look, “Why do you wanna know, Pip Squeak?”

            “We got into a fight last night, and I wanna go and apologize.”

            You were clearly not as convincing as you wanted to be because their left eyebrow rockets up, “Uh huh,” you glare at them again, “He lives in the top hut on the tree,” they point to a wooden structure hanging off the trunk, above Ekko’s workshop, “I would tell you to not bother, ‘cuz he hates people in his space, but somethin tells me that isn’t really an issue.”

            “Thank you, Jordyn,” it’s forced, but you don’t care. Humiliation creeps up your spine and if you don’t go now, you’ll probably actually take off for Bilgewater.

            There is probably an intended way to get up to the top of the tree, but you can’t be bothered to look for it, so you grab a hoverboard and float up to the top.

            The door to the balcony is open, but the glare of the sunlight makes it impossible to see inside, so you dismount silently and lean your board against the wooden railing of the balcony and step in.

            Scar’s back is to the door as he sits on the floor, completely captivated by what he’s doing. A squeal of joy catches your attention and you realize he’s sitting across from Aster. A smile breaks out on your face as you watch the young girl struggle to stand as her father pulls lightly on her arms. You rarely see her out of her bundle of blankets—your visits to the nursery always coincided with her naps—and you realize she’s a bit older than you originally thought. You couldn’t say with any certainty how old she is even if she was human, but she’s certainly not an infant.

            “You gonna just stand there?” Of course he knew you were there.

            “Took me a bit to find you, coulda told me where you lived,” you say, walking into the room. It’s larger than your quarters by quite a bit. A bed sits off to the corner separated by a folding screen. Aster coos when she sees you and you beam at her, dropping to your knees next to the two chireans.

            “I had a feeling you’d figure it out,” he answers, not taking his eyes off his daughter who is stamping her chubby feet on the floor and trying to pry her arms out of his gentle but firm grip. He finally lets her go and she drops back onto all fours, crawling over to you.

            With a considerable amount of effort, she pulls herself towards your lap, grinning at you with a handful of sharp, short teeth. You pick her up and pull her onto your legs, “Hiya squirt,” you coo at the small form clambering towards your chest. You don’t take your eyes off her as you talk to her father, “Jordyn told me you never have people over.”

            He shifts himself to sit across from you, leaning his broad back against the wall, one arm outstretched on his bent knee, “You’re here.”

            “Yeah,” you reply, feeling a bit stupid all the sudden. Aster pulls at your hair that has fallen down into her grasp. You wince and pry the strand out of her fingers, giving her your pinky instead. She laughs.

            “She likes you.” You finally look up, his eyes are focused solely on you, and you feel yourself blush, bringing your gaze back to the baby who is trying to get your finger into her mouth.

            Pulling back slightly—knowing better than to let her bite—you say, “She tell you that, huh?”

            From the edges of his vision, you can see him shake his head, “Aster hates strangers,” you smile down at her, she was perfectly happy to settle in your arms from the moment you met her, “She never lets anyone hold her. It took almost a month to get her to warm up to Jess.”

            You pick her up by her armpits and hold her out in front of you to dangle, she kicks her feet happily. “Isn’t it scary?” You blurt out before you can stop yourself, “I mean… leaving her with someone else, to go on raids.”

            He answers immediately, “Yes. It’s the hardest thing I do every single day, it kills me.”

            You look up at him, surprised by the raw honesty of his answer. You pass Aster back to him and she only looks slightly put off to be out of your arms before she turns her attention to her dad. He rests his head against the wall and looks to you.

            “I… I can’t imagine it. It took me years to get the courage to even make a friend out there. But to love someone? And leave them, not knowing if you’ll be back.” Maybe I shouldn’t push it.

            He shakes his head, smoothing down the tussle of black hair on Aster’s head, “It’s worth it, Kir. Everything is worth it. For her. For my family.” You twist your lips, family. It hurts a bit more than you’ll admit. Not just the idea that there is someone—besides his daughter—that he is devoted to, but the whole concept of it. You’ve never had the luxury of a family.

            Aster’s eyes begin to droop and he stands, scooping her gently into his arms. “I’m gonna put her down.” He looks down as he towers over you, “Don’t go anywhere.” You nod.

            He leaves the room, and you push yourself back to your feet. The room is…boring. You aren’t even being rude there’s just absolutely no personality to the space. Blank walls, gray bedspread, bare floors. Honestly, it looks like your room, but you have the excuse of only living here for a couple weeks; Scar’s had—presumably—years.

            You catch yourself in the middle of rearranging the furniture in your mind, why the fuck do I care? It’s not like you live here. You have no plans to live here. You couldn’t care less if the room was completely empty, and he slept on the floor. Okay, maybe I’d care a bit, but only because that’d be fucking weird.

            Scar shuts the door softly behind him and walks back into his bedroom. He stops a few feet away from you, looking down his nose. “Why do you always do that?” He gives you a look, “Loom over me, I mean. Make you feel real powerful?”

            He breathes out a laugh through his nose and sits down on the floor like how he had been earlier. Now you tower over him and it… isn’t as triumphant as you thought it would be. “Aster also gets nervous when people are taller than her,” he says. It takes you a bit too long to realize he’s mocking you.

            You scowl and plop down next to him, leaning against the wall with your head angled just enough to look at him sidelong. “Did you want me to come over just to make fun of me? Cuz I’m sure Jordyn or Geo would happily take over for you.”

            His eyes dart to you and then back to the floor, but it doesn’t look skittish like when you do. It looks… jealous? “We need to talk.”

            “Is that not what were doing? Maybe it’s a language barrier… talking refers to conversation. Shoot, I don’t know the chireanese translation.”

            He gives you yet another look, “One, its chireanai; two, I barely speak it; and three, you know what I mean. Stop acting dumb.” You glare but let him keep talking, “We need to talk about this.” He grabs your arm and pushes the sleeve up, revealing the scarred skin.

            “There’s nothing to talk about,” you try to pull your arm back, but his grip is strong.

            “Don’t shut down on me, Kirranari. I’m not trying to pressure you here, but you need to talk about it at some point, okay?”

            You dig your fingers under his claws and manage to pry your arm away, “Like you’re an open book. Gimme a break. Is this about me being a dealer? I thought I told you, I made mistakes but I’m not a fucking child so don’t treat me like one.” That familiar rage begins to bubble up from your gut.

            You stand up and walk towards the balcony but a hand on your shoulder stops you, spinning you around to face him. “Fucking stop it,” he bites, and you actually flinch, after last night you forgot how terrifying he is. “This isn’t about you being a dealer, it’s about you having a branding from one of the most notorious crime syndicates in Zaun. It’s about you hiding your past like it’ll kill you.” Because it will. “It’s about me giving a shit about you.”

            “And I already told you, I don’t know why you care about me, but it’s misplaced. Find some other girl to save.” Your voice is venomous.

            He doesn’t back down, “I’m not trying to save you, I thought I made that clear last night.”

            “Oh right, when you patched me up and then fucked me because you felt bad for me. That wasn’t saving me? Fuck you!” You yell, pushing his hand off your shoulder. The other one clamps down on your upper arm.

            “Keep your voice down.” He hisses, “I fucked you last night because I wanted to fuck you. Not out of pity, got it? The fact you even think that means you’ve got shit to work through. You think that low of me? Of yourself?”

            “I don’t know what to think, Scar.”

            He loosens his grip on your arm just enough so it stops hurting, but he doesn’t let go. “You told me that you’d accept help. Start here, that’s all I’m asking.”

            “Fine.” You let him lead you to a small wooden table and you slump down into a chair across from him. “What do you wanna know?”

            “Why you have that branding,” his voice is firm but lacking the harshness it had just a moment ago.

            “Pretty obvious. It’s from the Hush Company.” You scratch at the mark absently. It’s been years, but you could swear you can still smell the fumes of burnt flesh and feel the hot iron sear into the skin of your arm.

            “Wanna tell me why you have it?”

            “Why? So you can go tell everyone?” He doesn’t react and you sigh. “Sorry. It’s… a long story. I know you’re a very busy man, I would absolutely hate to take up your time with such a boring ta-”

            “Indulge me,” his eyes are humorless and you sigh yet again. Doesn’t look like you’re getting out of it.

            “I was born in Piltover. I know… shocker,” you gasp in mock surprise and he again refuses to react. You roll your eyes and continue, “I don’t know much about my parents, besides the fact that they were rich and stupid with their money. Hush Company had some pretty serious dirt on them that threatened to topple their entire business. So instead of solving their problems the legal way, they offered me—their youngest daughter—up and in exchange, Chross promised to forget everything he knew about them.” Maybe the story should upset you, but it’s been a constant as long as you can remember, you don’t really care about the life you could have had at this point.

            “What would Chross want with you?” Rude. Scar doesn’t say it like an insult, but you take it as one, if only to try and sort out the whirlwind of emotions the asshole makes you feel.

            “I’m incredibly useful, thank you very much. But you’re right. He didn’t want me, initially. But I guess my parents weren’t a big enough problem to warrant anything violent and I don’t know. Maybe the old fuck was getting bored, thought it’d be exciting having a piltie’s kid. Anyways, I became useful to them. Not like I had much of a choice… it was be useful or die and what can I say, I’m a stubborn bitch.” He laughs at that, which is relieving. “I was good at getting in and out of offices and had a knack for picking locks; everything needed for a little intel rat, which is what I became.”

            “What made you stop?” What the fuck is this, an interview?

            “When I turned seventeen, I realized I’d had enough of the beatings and ridicule and old man smell, so we parted ways.”

            “Just like that?” He looks unconvinced.

            You shrug your shoulders, “Yeah. I’m sure the boss wasn’t thrilled, but people come and go, wasn’t much he could do about it.” That’s a fucking lie. From what you heard in the months following your escape, Chross was turning the whole city up looking for you. It was flattering, really.

            “And you just decided to start dealing shimmer?” That bite is back in his voice, he can really hold a godsdammed grudge.

            “Yeah, sounded like a lot of fun, exploiting addicts,” you say sarcastically. He snarls and you glare, it’s truly a match made in heaven. “I don’t think it’s that far of a stretch. I had the skillset to get into the storehouses. And Silco produces so fucking much of the stuff, he never noticed a few inches skimmed off the top. Not to mention the idiots on the topside who don’t wanna deal with the big bad barons. A girl like me is pretty low risk, they didn’t even know they were getting scammed.” He opens his mouth, but you cut him off before he can start., “Before you lecture me about how ‘evil’ my choices were, don’t. I had enough of that crap from you and Ekko to last a fucking lifetime.”

            “I wasn’t gonna lecture you.”

            You raise an eyebrow, “No? Cuz you’ve proved to be pretty good at it.”

            “I was gonna apologize,” his jaw twitches.

            “Don’t make me laugh.”

            “Shut up.” You raise your hands in surrender, “I was gonna apologize for how I acted when we first met. I judged you too harshly. You did everything you could to survive, most can’t say the same.”

            A bit more of that anger dissipates, “Didn’t know you knew how to apologize.”

            “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

            You cross your legs and lean back in your chair, “Well, you officially know more about me than anyone else in this city, a little bit of reciprocation wouldn’t be the worst.”

            He smirks and matches your posture, “I’ve got nothing as interesting as you. I grew up like any other sump rat; parents worked in the mines, died when I was young. I met Ekko when I was in my teens, we’ve been together ever since.” He catches the glint of mischief in your eyes, “Fuck you. Not like that.”

            The voice inside you screams to ask about Aster’s mom, who is she, do you still love her, where is she, how do I compare? But you bite your tongue, not in the mood to argue anymore. “That can’t be everything.”

            He smirks and rests his chin on his hand, propping his elbow on the table, “Course there’s more. How else am I gonna keep you around?”

            You scoff, “Right, cuz I’m leaving as soon as you get boring.”

            The feet of his chair scrape against the floor as he stands up and walks around the table to sit in front of you. “I thought I told you to quit towering over me,” you scold as you stand, still not coming to his full height.

            He flashes his teeth, “I need you to make me a promise.”

            Your exasperation is evident in your voice, “What? That I’m never gonna leave you? Gonna dedicate my life to you and the Firelights?” You’re joking—obviously—but it’s still thrilling, to toe such a dangerous line. Falling could be fatal, for you and him.

            He pauses for a moment, eyes searching yours, “No.” You try not to deflate, “Promise me that you’ll come to me when you need help. I won’t ask questions or pry anymore into your life until you’re ready, but I want you to know that you can come to me.”

            You consider his offer. In all honesty, you’re considering more than just his offer. The implications of it all… trusting someone so completely. Are you even wired for that? There is literally no way of knowing, you’ve never gotten close enough to someone to confide anything in them… much less trust them. Sure, you’ve gotten physically close with people; you’re not a godsdamn monk. But what Scar is asking, it’s fucking terrifying. “Fine,” you finally say, “Yeah okay. I promise. I’ll come to you if I need help.”

            He nods but doesn’t go so far as to smile. “Good.”

            Gods it’s sometimes like talking to a brick wall. “I still don’t know your angle, Scar.” You look him up and down, one eyebrow cocked.

            “Who says I’ve got an angle? “

            You roll your eyes, “Everyone’s got an angle, it’s like… a requirement of being a sentient being.”

            He folds his arms over his chest, “What’s your angle then, Kirranari?”

            You smile deviously and his eyes darken, “Right now? Get a good look at what you so rudely kept me from seeing last night.”

            Now he smiles, and it’s a toe curling, animalistic smile as he palms your ass, encouraging you to jump so he can lift you into his arms. Immediately, you wrap your legs around his torso and let him carry you to the bed. You attack his neck with the same enthusiasm he held last night, but when you pull back, you’re disappointed to see not a single mark sticks, stupid human teeth.

            He drops you onto the bed, which is shockingly comfortable, nicer than mine for sure. “Damn, who do you have to fuck to get digs like these anyways?” His eyes darken even further. I could be convinced.

            He drops to his knees in front of the bed and begins working at the drawstring of your pants when you sit up and pull back. “Hey, where’s your sense of fairness?” You press your hands into his cheeks and pull gently, guiding him up onto the bed. He doesn’t try and stop you as you move to straddle him, but your tongue working against the pulsing vein in his neck probably helps.

            The buckles on his vest provide an interesting problem, and you fiddle with them long enough for him to move his hands up in an attempt to help. You slap them away before they can reach their target and shoot him a look, he huffs out a laugh and leans back with his hands behind his head. I could get into a locked safe in under a minute, but these fucking buckles are giving me trouble?

            You finally get them undone and chuck the offending garment behind you, taking a moment to appreciate his chest because holy shit. You drag your nails down his pecs and stomach, smiling at the way he tenses up under the pressure, muscles rippling at the lightest contact.

            His pants are much easier—buttons you can handle—and you slide them off his feet along with his boots, leaving him in nothing but a pair of gray boxers. Your eyes naturally gravitate towards the prominent bulge, but you resist the temptation to palm him through the fabric right away.

            Instead you slide off his body and kneel between his legs that hang off the bed. Slowly, you lower your mouth to his stomach and press a line of soft kisses along the waistband. His breath hitches as your breath fans over the velvety skin. Tentatively you slip your tongue out to taste his skin and you find yourself slightly disappointed when it tastes like… nothing. Maybe a hint of soap? Finally giving into the temptations, you give him a firm squeeze, causing his abs to tighten and his breath to catch once more. You smirk up at him, but he remains almost motionless, simply watching you with heavy, green eyes.

            Redirecting your attention, you begin to drag the fabric down his hips, enamored by the way it catches on his cock, lowering them just enough for it to spring free and slap against his stomach. Your patience eventually runs out and you pull the boxers the rest of the way down his legs, throwing them over your shoulder to join the pile of other discarded garments. You sit back on your heels and lay a hand on each thigh, digging your nails into the skin lightly, as you take in the sight in front of you.

            It’s huge. You knew that, obviously; felt the way he nearly split you open, but actually seeing it? You worry you won’t be able to get even half of it down your throat. Stop stalling, you chide yourself. Gently, you take the shaft into your hand, simply feeling the texture in your palm. It’s nearly the same gray as the rest of his skin and just as velvety smooth.

            Scar shifts and you look up to see him sitting up on his elbows, “Were you planning on just staring?”

            You glare up at him, sitting up just enough to push him back horizontal, “Shut up.” He laughs and lets you push him back. You return to your work.

            You take another breath and finally work up the courage. It’s not like you haven’t done this before but he’s bigger than any you’ve seen before, maybe it’s a chirean thing? You pull his cock from his stomach and press a kiss to the light gray tip, tongue darting out to catch the small pearl of precum accumulated on the tip. The taste coating the very tip of your tongue fills your mouth and you could probably cum right there if you weren’t so focused on making him feel good first. Priorities or whatever.

            He doesn’t react until you wrap your lips around the tip, sucking the feverish flesh into your mouth to rest, fluttering your tongue against the slit. At the first entrance into your mouth, his stomach clenches and his back nearly arches off the bed. You hum a laugh around his dick and he spasms again, one hand going to your hair, scraping his claws against your scalp.

            With a sudden burst of confidence, you lower your head, taking nearly all of him in one fell swoop and resting your nose almost against his stomach. Pretty impressive, if I do say so myself. You bring your head back up before bobbing down again, finding a rhythm as your tongue explores the unfamiliar appendage in your mouth.

            The tension in your hair is a wonderful map; the more he pulls at your hair, the more you repeat whatever the hell it was that you just did. It’s actually kinda like picking a lock. Just… if picking locks suddenly made you feel like you were going to cum in your pants and beg the lock to let you bear its future children. What the FUCK?

            The thought is so shocking, you actually gag around his cock and have to pull your head back to keep from hurling, coughing as you wipe the spit from your mouth. He sits up, a sheen of sweat on his forehead and chest heaving. He had been close, till I ruined it. “You okay?” He sounds genuinely concerned.

            You nod, feeling your face flush, “Yeah sorry… you’re just… really big.”

            His hand slides from your hair down to your cheek, “You don’t have to do this, Kir.”

            You actually smile this time instead of glaring, “I want to do this, okay? It’s just been awhile.”

            You take him back into your mouth and he flops back onto the mattress. This time, you keep your mind focused solely on his pleasure. Redoubling your previous efforts, you take him as far as you can manage, flattening your tongue against the thick vein on the bottom of his cock. Tentatively, you reach a hand under your head to cup his balls, rolling them gently between dexterous fingers. “Mmm fuck… just like that.” His encouragement sends lightening through your veins, and you moan around him, digging the nails of your free hand into his thigh.

            “Gonna cum,” he murmurs, barely audible in your ears over the wetness of your mouth. You squeeze the rapidly tightening skin of his balls as your own form of encouragement, never stopping the movement of your head despite the muscles in your cheeks and neck cramping.

            His fingers pull your hair taught as he pushes your head down, pumping thick, salty cum directly down your throat. To your credit, you don’t gag this time. In fact, you swallow each drop dutifully, tongue pressing lightly against the pulsing flesh.

            You hold him gently in your mouth, waiting for his fingers to release their death grip on your head and his cock to stop spasming. He hisses as you pull your head up even as you’re careful not to linger on the sensitive skin.

            He is sitting up fully by the time you can raise your head enough to look at him. Lidded but piercing eyes gaze down at you for a second before he cups your face in his hands and kisses you, forcing his tongue between your swollen lips. “Fuck… you’re… I can’t…” he mumbles against your lips and you fight the urge to squeal, knowing you were able to reduce him to just as much of a puddle as he brought you too last night.

            You ease up on to the bed, straddling his naked hips once again. “You alright?” Your voice is light and soft despite the fire burning deep in your belly.

            His hand moves up to squeeze your still clothed breast and you arch into the contact. “Be better in a second,” he mutters, kissing your neck gently along the marks he made last night. “Be better once I take care of you same way you took care of me.”

            You sigh as his lips settle on the skin just below your ear, “You don’t… have to. I- uh,” a claw slips under your shirt and he groans when he realizes you’ve foregone a bra, “I wanted to… mmm… do that for you.”

            That earns you a nip. “And I want to do this for you, so shut up,” your laugh is cut off by a sharp wail from the other room. Scar groans and pushes you gently off his body so he can pull his pants over his softening cock. “I’ll be right back,” he mutters, walking towards Aster’s room.

            You’re sitting up in bed, much calmer now, when he walks out with his daughter cradled to his bare chest. So much for calm. Something strange and unknown twists itself in your gut: the same feeling that nearly made you spew all over his bedsheets. But can you really blame yourself? The sight of such a strong, dangerous man holding such a delicate form in his arms, eyes practically burning with love as he looks down at her. Maybe it’s envy you feel? Envy for this little girl and the love she will grow around. But… there’s something more than just the envy. Sure, you want that same, unconditional love, you’ve always known that, despite your attempts to push that fragile side of you down.

            What you feel is more than just a desire to experience a love of that caliber, you find yourself longing to join in on this love, the one you see in front of you. Which is… crazy. You don’t even know the man and you suddenly want to be a part of this delicate, perfect relationship. What gives me the right?

            Scar sits on the bed next to you, leaning against the wall and kicking his legs in front of himself, still holding Aster. “C’mere,” he jerks his head to the space next to him.

            “No that’s okay. I’ll head out, I wouldn’t wanna intrude,” you say, moving to stand. It feels too… personal. To be invited into this space as a relative stranger. Aster’s cries have reduced to sniffles, and she slots herself comfortably between Scar’s arms and his chest, leaving plenty of room for you to scoot up into his side. It’s so fucking tempting. From the sleepy smile on the girl, you could almost believe she knew what she was doing.

            “If I wanted you to leave, I woulda said so.” He looks at you like you are simultaneously the stupidest and the most perfect person in the world and your resolve melts.

            His arm wraps around your smaller frame and you rest your head on his chest, smiling as he traces his claw into the skin of your shoulder. Over the planes of his chest, Aster looks at you and you reach a hand over to ruffle her hair. The longer you stare at her sleepy smile, the more tired you feel yourself become, and before you can help it, you fall asleep, cuddled into Scar’s body, encased in his scent and the slow rise and fall of his chest.

            You blink your eyes open slowly and find your body curled around Aster, and Scar completely absent. Sitting up gently, you tuck the girl into your arms and pad bare footed across the room. She stirs lightly but finds a comfortable position in your arms. “Where did your dad run off to, bug?” She coos but says nothing helpful.

            You walk to the window and look down at the Firelights below. It all feels oddly reminiscent of your first morning, when Ekko was still trying to convince you to join. Warm air hits your face as you step out into the shaded balcony, and you shift Aster, so her body is pressed against your chest. A breeze blows your face into your line of sight, and you rest her on your hip to push it away. It startles you how natural it is beginning to feel. All of it: living with the Firelights, holding Aster, even being with Scar. I need to slow the fuck down, I just got here.

            A blur of white and green catches your attention and before you can move back into the small apartment, Ekko is landing on the balcony right next to your abandoned hoverboard. He doesn’t seem to even acknowledge you until he’s stepped off and leaned the board against the railing. “Oh. Hey?” He looks confused, “Have you… seen Scar around?”

            Your face flushes. How can the same fucking thing happen twice in one day? Do the gods just hate me? You scramble to think of an answer. “Yeah, he just er- stepped out for a sec. Asked me to keep an eye on Aster for him.” The small gray child in your arms has opened her eyes at the commotion, she eyes Ekko but doesn’t squirm to leave your arms.

            He looks... bewildered, eyes wide and brown skin flushing almost inperceptively. “Right. Well, I was just gonna tell him the same thing I told him this morning, but I guess you two already worked it out.”

            Is it that obvious? “Yup! All good we’re al-” A door opening behind you cuts you off. Both you and Ekko turn to see Scar walking out of the bathroom, hair and skin still wet from his shower, towel slung low over his hips. It’s that obvious.

            The whole situation is probably incredibly comical, the way Scar freezes to look between the two of you, eyes going wide and then narrowing, trying to understand what the hell is happening. Unfortunately, you aren’t exactly in a headspace to see it that way. You’re actually beginning to consider shoving Aster into Ekko’s hands and jumping right off the balcony when Ekko finally breaks the awkward silence. “I’ll go then… see you two—er three—later.”

            He is already half the way down the tree by the time you turn to face Scar. He isn’t laughing this time, so that’s a plus? It’s so hard to tell with him.

            “Sorry.” Your voice comes out weaker than you wanted.

            He looks confused for a moment and shakes his head, “Why are you sorry?”

            Your mouth opens and closes twice before you can get an answer out and you feel quite a bit like a fish, “Because… Ekko and… he saw me here.”

            “You think I give a shit that he saw you here?”

            “I- no. Er well…”

            “Well I don’t. And I don’t get why you think I’d have a problem with it.” He looks at you like you’re stupid and even still, you feel like you could melt for what seems to be the hundredth time today. He isn’t embarrassed to have me around? Not that he should, of course. I’m a fucking catch. But still, you find yourself slightly baffled. He shrugs and grabs Aster from your hands before turning and laying her down on the bed. “Besides, not like Ekko gives a shit either.”

            He walks to his dresser and drops the towel on the ground. You blink at the sight in front of you, worrying you may have to physically pick your jaw up. This man is beautiful, like… holy shit. It’s honestly unfair that one being can hold so much beauty. Must be a mistake on the gods’ or something.

            “Quit staring.” He says, not turning around, but you can hear the smirk in his voice.

            You scoff and stick your tongue out at him, turning to walk to the balcony. “See you at dinner, Scar.” You call over your shoulder before stepping onto your board and taking off. You think that if you don’t leave at this moment, you’ll never leave. The urge to jump him again is too strong and you’d like to have at least a semi-productive day.

I hope you all enjoyed! This was written during a 14 hour car ride to Texas and not beta-read so... ya know... have kind thoughts in your hearts about me. I listened to Enigma's "MCMXC a.D." album about 12 times while working on this, in case y'all were curious. Anyways... love you all so so much and I'll see you all in the next chapter. -Shart

Tag List: @kiannaf @awenthealchemist @calciferthelivingfire @bakugokatsuki18-blog @ariwolfsstuff @mcaats  @radflapkidsludge @honeym0chi @veggiesoupdumpling @vicki--mouse  @im-jasmine @bearinthesnow

[catcze]

Do you think Wrio is a good cook? And if so, do you think he has a signature dish he likes to make when he wants to impress someone? ;0

Tbh I think that he's pretty damn okay cook— not exactly the best of the best, but he has one or two dishes that he knows how to cook, and that he cooks well. I feel like growing up mostly in the fortress, where he would get his meals pre-made in the cafeteria, he didn't have much opportunity/need to learn how to cook, yk? It was a skill that he learned later on in life, when he had more leisure time to himself to explore a couple things— cooking being one of them! I feel like he'd mostly stuck to easy, fool-proof recipes at first, that were easy for him to make in a pinch.

And if he's trying to impress you with your cooking skills —maybe you guys are having a date at your home this time, rather than eating out, and he wants to make you something delicious to see you ooh and ahh over the food— I think he'd make something easy to make, yet is impressive all the same. My gut is telling me that he'd make pasta of some sort. It's a dish that's commonly liked by people, and it's difficult to mess up too badly. He'd probably go for something fancy, like a pasta recipe that involves truffles or white wine in the cooking process. And he'd be so careful with the plating of it, too! He'd make sure that the pasta is presented just right— pretty, but not overly pretentious-looking. That the toppings of it (be it some kind of meat, cheese, or whatever you'd like) fall just right and that he doesn't put too much for it to be overpowering!

Aaa I really do think that he'd put in effort to make such a simple dish taste good (like, mind-blowingly good) and also make the presentation pleasing to the eyes <3

[magical-reid]

Out of His League

Paring: Lip Gallagher x Reader (No use of Y/n)

Word Count: 1.1 K

Summary: Lip Gallagher has always been rough around the edges, a South Side kid who’s used to scraping by and making do. His girlfriend? A glittering, graceful figure skater who seems like she’s walked straight out of a fairy tale. Their relationship makes people talk, but Lip doesn’t care—at least, that’s what he tells himself. As he struggles to prove he’s good enough for her, she has other ideas: she doesn’t want perfection; she just wants him.

Lip wasn’t the kind of guy you’d expect to end up with a girl like her.

Not the frilly dresses, skates-on-the-ice, twirling-her-hair kind of girl. Not the kind of girl who wore pastel cardigans and pearls, who smelled like vanilla even after hours at the rink, whose nails were painted soft pink and never chipped. She was everything the South Side wasn’t: polished, graceful, and so goddamn delicate that people stared when they walked down the street together.

And people stared a lot.

The Rink

“Wait, her? That’s your girlfriend?”

Carl’s mouth was hanging open, his eyes darting between Lip and the girl gliding effortlessly across the ice in a sparkling blue skating dress. Debbie elbowed him hard in the ribs.

“Yes, Carl. Shut up before someone hears you.”

“Shit, no, I mean—good for you, Lip. Like, wow. Didn’t think you’d pull someone like that.”

Lip groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose as his siblings gawked. He didn’t blame them; she looked so different from anyone who had ever stepped foot in their lives, much less dated him.

She caught his eye from the rink, smiling brightly as she finished a spin and waved. Lip raised a hand back, trying not to look too self-conscious about the way the guy standing next to him elbowed his buddy and muttered something under his breath.

He clenched his jaw, a sharp retort on the tip of his tongue, but stopped when Liam tugged on his jacket.

“She’s really good,” Liam said, wide-eyed as they watched her float across the ice.

Lip exhaled, the tension easing just a little. “Yeah,” he muttered, glancing back at her. “She’s somethin’, huh?”

After her routine, she practically bounded over to him, cheeks flushed from the cold. “Did you see? That last jump was a little shaky, but I think it went okay!”

“You were perfect,” he said without hesitation, ignoring the snickers from Carl behind him.

She tilted her head, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips. “Think you could keep up?”

“On the ice?” Lip scoffed. “Not a chance.”

“Come on. I’ll teach you!”

“No way,” he said, but she was already tugging him toward the rental counter.

On the Ice

It was humiliating.

Lip’s skates wobbled beneath him like they had a mind of their own. His knees felt like they might give out at any second, and the cold seeped through his jeans as he clung to the edge of the rink.

She skated up to him effortlessly, her hands clasped behind her back, smiling like she wasn’t laughing at him.

“I told you I’d help,” she said, holding out her hand.

“I’m good right here, thanks.”

“Lip,” she said, rolling her eyes playfully. “You’re not gonna let me show you up, are you?”

“You live on the ice,” he shot back, but her outstretched hand was hard to resist.

He hesitated, then finally took it. Her fingers were soft and steady as she guided him away from the wall.

“Okay, just relax,” she said, skating backward with ease. “Let me do the work.”

His feet slid awkwardly beneath him, and he gripped her hand like it was a lifeline. She laughed, her eyes sparkling as she steadied him.

“You’re doing great!”

“I’m doing awful,” he muttered, but there was something about the way she looked at him—like he wasn’t a mess, like she didn’t care that he didn’t belong in her world—that made it almost worth it.

Coffee and Books

She started showing up at the Gallagher house with food and coffee like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“I was close by,” she’d say with a shrug, handing him a cup of coffee and a bag of pastries that looked like they cost more than his whole week’s groceries.

“You were close by?” he said one day, raising an eyebrow. “You live twenty minutes away.”

“Close enough,” she said breezily, brushing past him to greet Debbie and Liam.

She fit into the chaos of his house in a way that baffled him. She didn’t flinch when Carl swore or when Frank stumbled in reeking of booze. She even managed to make Debbie smile after a fight about who was supposed to watch Liam.

He didn’t get it. Why someone like her would bother.

And then there was the tutoring.

“I don’t get it,” she said one night, her notebook spread out on his kitchen table.

Lip leaned over her shoulder, explaining the formula for the third time. She nodded along, her pencil scribbling quickly as he spoke.

“You really don’t get this, huh?” he teased, nudging her lightly.

“Nope. Total mystery,” she said, biting her lip.

But weeks later, he caught her fixing one of her essays when she thought he wasn’t looking. His words, her corrections.

“You little liar,” he said, crossing his arms.

She froze, wide-eyed. “What?”

“You’ve been faking it. You don’t need me to tutor you.”

She flushed, fiddling with her pen. “Okay, maybe I exaggerated a little. I just… like spending time with you.”

Lip stared at her, thrown. “You could’ve just said that, you know.”

She shrugged, a shy smile tugging at her lips. “Would you have believed me?”

Always Watching

People kept staring. At her dresses, her perfectly styled hair, the way she didn’t fit into the South Side’s rough edges. Guys would make comments, some even bold enough to hit on her in front of him.

Lip’s jaw would clench, his fists curling at his sides, but he never said anything. He’d just pull her closer, slinging an arm around her waist like it was the only way to keep her.

And maybe it was.

Because no matter how many times she told him he was enough, Lip couldn’t help but think she deserved more—someone who didn’t have to scrounge for rent, who could take her out to nice places, who wasn’t dragging a family behind him like an anchor.

But then she’d show up with coffee, or pull him onto the ice, or kiss him so softly it felt like the world stopped spinning, and he’d start to believe, just for a second, that maybe he wasn’t so out of his depth.

Maybe, just maybe, she chose him.

And when she laced her fingers with his, smiling like he was the only person in the world, Lip couldn’t help but squeeze back. Because he’d do whatever it took to keep her, frilly dresses and all.

[star--stilinski]

i need some much stiles

much stiles, much happy! jk, i understand ya. i just love making fun of typos because i'm actually evil.

☆

stiles is insatiable.

seriously, no matter how much you squirm and whine, he won't fucking quit. you started this, though. you suppose it might be warranted.

of course, your "starting it" was all in compassion. when he first asked (a husky mumble in your ear as he tugged at the waistband of your sweats), you had told him he'd be disappointed. that only certain guys really actually like it. that you haven't shaved, aren't pornstar pretty, your thighs might actually crush him.

and he took that very personally.

told you that "any real man knows getting crushed by thighs like yours while tasting your orgasm is the real way to end their evening" and went even further to say that "if you seriously expect me to be attracted to that child-looking shit then you're sorely mistaken." he then proceeded to lay you back and get comfy between your legs.

you didn't realize the monster you'd create.

he moaned when he first tasted you, after ample "warm up" (his words, not yours) and a good amount of ogling your up-close sex. his movements started off unsure and a bit sloppy, before he found his rhythm and got confident. from there, he was bringing you close and then pulling you back a few times, just for the fucking fun of it. it was the most torturous pleasure you'd ever felt.

after the first orgasm (where you unconsciously thanked him over and over, which unlocked a new kink for him. yippee.), your back arched slightly and your lips parted in a moan, you expected that to be it. the end. maybe a hand job for his fantastic work and then knocking out after a shower.

instead, stiles didn't even let up.

his eyes are closed, humming against your clit as he holds you by the thighs. partly because, well, stiles loves your thighs. and partly because he has to keep you still.

overstimulation hurts so good. you tug at his hair, gasping "stiles, it hurts, please," and he relents. but he only pulls back a bit, giving you a moment of relief as he licks his lips with hooded eyes trained on you.

"you okay, baby?" his words seem to bleed into one another, hands squeezing your plush thighs like he's holding himself back. the sight it downright evil, really; you've already forgotten how it hurt for him to keep going.

your head falls back onto your pillows and you scrunch your features up. "you don't have to-"

"please, i want to, please." his tone takes a rapid uptick into begging territory. "only a little longer, promise i'll be good, make you feel so good. just a bit more, yeah?"

you lift your head, tired and breathless, to meet his eyes. they're unfocused as he flicks his attention between you and your sex. letting your head rest back on the cushions, you take a deep breath and nod once. "alright, just a little longer."

"thank you, fuck. thank you so much baby." stiles litters kisses all over the insides of your thighs, his own way of showing gratitude before he dives back in, eyelashes notably fluttering when he takes a taste of you again.

he's not very kind after that.

round two, then three, and by the fourth- your jaw is slack and your brow is pinched together, but you're not sure if the expression is from pleasure or pain. when you come, actual tears prick at your eyes. stiles' tongue flicks your sensitive clit, working you over the edge, as you babble nonsense in your haze. this orgasm peaks with it's own bundle of pain involved, and your nerves seem to be getting the two mixed up as your hips attempt to twitch, held in place by stiles' big, demanding hands.

"tastes so good, mhmm, been thinking about this forever," stiles' words are barely audible as he looks up at you. his face is glistening, basically from nose to chin, and he's totally pussy drunk. you've never believed that expression until you see it in stiles' hooded eyes, head resting against your thigh. his cheeks are completely flushed and his hands are massaging your hips with more pressure than necessary, probably not even aware of the motion since his own hips are lazily grinding into the mattress.

you let out a heavy breath and smooth your fingers over his hair to try and fix what you did when you were preoccupied. it doesn't help the tameless mess he's sporting, but the look kinda suits him. "so?"

he blinks slowly, smiling up at you like you're the one who looks completely in love. well, you're four orgasms deep and stiles looks so pretty in between your thighs, so... maybe you do look like that. he licks his lips, and it makes goosebumps rise on your skin. "so, what?"

"d-did- are you disappointed?" the question sounds stupid now that it's out of your mouth, but he's too far gone to even laugh at you.

"jesus, no. could do this all day if you'd let me." his brow furrows. "would you let me?"

you laugh breathlessly and let your head fall against the pillows, scratching his scalp lightly. "i dunno. maybe." tugging him by the hair (which causes a sudden buck of his hips where they're grinding. go figure) you mumble, "c'mere?"

he crawls over you, wiping his face off on the way, and collapses while pressing his face into your neck. "yeah? what're you thinking about?"

you breathe in his scent, mind filled with stilesstilesstilesstilesstiles. "you. what are you thinking about?"

his arms wrap around you comfortably. "you."

"you can't have the same answer." your voice is weaker with his body weight on you. "that's cheating."

"alright, fine. i'm thinking about eating you out again."

"jesus, stiles." you feel him smile against your neck, and his arms tighten around you.

"what? i'm hungry!"

"it's not a- god, i've made a monster!" you laugh and cover your eyes, feeling him lift himself halfway off of you. "this is going to be the death of me."

"correction," his voice lowers, and you feel him planting kisses down your neck, then your chest. as he gets to your stomach, you peek through your fingers to find him assuming his previous position.

"i'm going to be the death of you."

☆

yayyy i'm posting while in a slump!!!!!!!! yayyy i'm not a total failure!!!!!!!!!!! (sobs heard in the distance)

sorry this is my worst ever creation look at this ugly FREAK

[starmieknight]

Stars Align

The Hand That Rocks the Mabel Pt. 1

17 Again AU: After a disastrous first day with the twins, Stan swears to do better as an uncle. But fate loves playing tricks on him and the magic 8-ball in the attic is more than it seems.

Now on top of having a pair of twelve year olds around the house while he tries to finish the portal and bring his brother home, Stan has to deal with being back in his seventeen year old body! Summer has never been weirder in Gravity Falls.

AO3 link

Concept Art

Legend of the Gobblewonker (Art)

Prologue, The Legend of the Gobblewonker, Headhunters Pt. 1, Headhunters Pt. 2, Headhunters Pt. 3 (previous)

It had been a couple of days since the Wax Stan fiasco. There wasn't much going on around the Shack apart from the usual tourist groups and the gnomes fighting the local wildlife for trash can rights. Pretty normal stuff. Almost like it had been for the thirty years without the twins around.

Still, the peace couldn't last.

Stan didn't know it at the time, but the next couple of days were about to be more exciting than anything that had happened yet that summer.

And it all started with a television commercial.

Stan grins as the latest tour group gathers around him, all eager to throw their money away into his Mystery Sack. Really, these guys would fall for anything! And they're happy to do it, a few of the older women even going so far as to pinch his cheeks.

It's a weird feeling, having these women look at him like he's adorable or something. Yuck. He's old enough to be their husband. They shouldn't be cooing over him like he was some scamp of a grandson.

He'd never had any old ladies doing this when he really was a kid back in Jersey. They were usually running him off with a broom for stealing pies or something off the windowsill.

Stan plastered his showman smile on as the last lady turned to him, feeling the strain of keeping an act up as she patted his cheek maternally.

"Such a handsome young man," the lady sighs. "And a good son, too ― running this place for your dad. I've met him, you know. The Mystery Shack was a favorite stop of mine when we were younger. I didn't even know Stanford had a son… Is he around?"

The hopeful look in the lady's eyes and the slight pink in her face was enough to keep Stan from bolting into the house. The question felt kind of shady, but he also had vague memories of flirting it up with this particular woman over the years. From dark hair to the silvers he had worn until just recently, she had been around for quite a while.

He still couldn't remember her name.

"Uh, yeah, that's me!" He said as cooly as he could manage, tugging at his collar. Why did the tie suddenly feel suffocating? "Stanford’s son!"

"You said your name was Stan, too, didn't you? At the start of the tour? Are you a junior?" The lady smiled in a way that might have been teasing, but Stan was already shuddering at the thought of being named after his father.

Let Ford have that one all to himself. He was fine with his middle name being his mother's maiden name. Romanoff sounded pretty cool, anyway.

"No! Nononono," he waved his hands frantically. "I'm― Lee! Stanley Pines… The Second! Named after an uncle."

"Aw, how sweet, carrying on a family legacy like that." The lady patted his head once more. "Well, Stanley, tell your father that Dolores is back in town when you see him. Over at the Fall-In Hotel."

Stan felt his ears grow hot. Okay, maybe they hadn't just... flirted it up. More like, if she was around more often, Dolores would have been in line for the next, ex-Mrs. Mystery title.

"You got it, toots." He grinned, winking. Then flinched and backtracked. "I mean, Ma'am. Definitely ma'am. I gotta, uh ― go wash the goat! Bye!"

With the Mystery Sack tucked securely under his arm, Stan bolted for the Shack's backdoor, racing past the stairs to throw himself into his armchair.

"Ugh," he groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Dealing with an ex like this is the worst."

Soos patted his back sympathetically while the twins, both sprawled out on the floor, turned to look at him curiously.

"You have an old girlfriend outside?!" Mabel squealed with excitement, stars in her eyes.

"Emphasis on the old girlfriend." Stan raised a pointed eyebrow at her and gestured to his face. "She thinks I'm his son. Had to give her a stage name and everything."

Mabel wrinkled her nose. "That's... kind of weird."

"Very weird." Dipper agreed.

"What're we watching?" Stan asked, hiding his money sack beneath the chair cushion for now. He looked at the TV hopefully. "Tiger Fist?"

"We're waiting on the commercials now!" Mabel said brightly.

"Oh, look!" Soos said suddenly, pointing at the TV. "It's that commercial I was telling you dudes about!"

Stan's lip curled with disgust as the advertisement continued to play, Gideon Gleeful's annoyingly shrill tones ringing in his ears. It sounded even worse without his hearing aide muffling the sound. He missed being able to turn it off when he didn't want to listen to people talk.

He sat up enough to unbutton his jacket and toss it in the direction of the coat rack. It was entirely too hot this summer and he wanted out of his pants five minutes ago. He paused in the middle of stripping to stare at the pile of fabric on the ground, wondering why he had done that instead of hanging it up properly.

He always hung his jacket up ― ever since donning his Mr. Mystery persona.

Admittedly, he was a bit messy by nature, but leaving his clothes laying around haphazardly felt entirely too... teenager-ish.

Stan hurried to right his wrong and turned back to the kids in time to hear Dipper voice the desire to check out Gideon's road show.

"No!" Stan barked, face feeling itchy from the mere idea of getting close to the Tent of Telepathy. "Never! You are forbidden from patronizing the competition!"

Soos chuckled at him. "Dude, I can't take you seriously with that face. You're like a baby bear. So cute!”

Stan made a frustrated noise as he stomped up the stairs.

They'd listen to his warnings if they knew what was good for them.

_____________________________________________________________

And, of course, they didn't listen. They were his family ― why would they?

Pines were never good at keeping their noses out from where they didn't belong. (Usually their noses were too big to even bother with trying, but the twins were still growing into theirs.)

With only a quick stop by the Corduroy house to grab Wendy for backup (and boy was it weird, considering Dan didn't recognize Stan and tried giving him the shovel talk about taking Wendy out), Stan arrived at the Tent of Telepathy just in time to miss the show.

Thank Moses. He really didn't want to listen to Gideon sing some cutesy song and do his little dance. It was unsettling.

The only song and dance he ever sat through was that VHS tape of Dipper's Lamby Lamby Dance the twins' mom had sent him. He still had that, somewhere. Probably had the pictures of him holding the newborn twins somewhere, too.

He should really find those things. The kids would probably like to see them.

"Man, that kid's an even bigger fraud than Stan." Dipper was saying as he and Mabel exited the tent. "No wonder our uncle's jealous."

"I'm not jealous of that twerp!" Stan snapped, startling the kids. They looked up at him guiltily, Wendy merely shrugging when they turned to her for help. "I specifically forbade yous two from coming here and you still did it anyway! And what's worse is you dragged Soos along with you ― where is he anyway?"

"He went to get the truck," Dipper mumbled, tugging his cap over his eyes to avoid looking at his uncle.

"Oh, come on, Grunkle Stan!" Mabel smiled at him, eyes wide and sparkling. Oh, boy ― he'd have to stay strong if he wanted to stay angry. "Gideon's dance moves were adorable! And his hair is like, whoosh. Give him a chance!"

Your niece is being duped by this brat, Stanley.

The ideal of her trusting heart being taken advantage of was enough to relight the fire of anger in his heart.

“Absolutely not!" Stan growled, grabbing the twins and throwing them over his shoulder like sacks of potatoes. "We’re going home ― and I don't want to hear anymore about that Gideon brat or ― or I'll ground you!"

"You're pretty serious about that kid," Wendy observed with mild surprise. "Does he really get on your nerves that bad?”

"Doesn't he get on yours?" Stan retorted with a scowl. "I've heard you complain about him stealin' your fancy face lotion enough times to know you can't stand him, either."

Wendy grimaced at the reminder. "Yeah, that shit's expensive."

"Language!"

"Y'know," Wendy continued, ignoring him. She poked his cheek, earning a yelp from him as she pressed on a tender spot. "You could use some skincare yourself. You're breakin' out something bad, man."

"It's a Pines thing," Stan brushed her off, wincing at the itchy feeling overtaking his face. Now that she’d drawn attention to it, it was hard to ignore. "We got oily skin. What can I do about it?"

"Wash your face?" Wendy snorted. "They make specialty stuff for your skin type now. This isn't the sixties."

"I'm not puttin' any snake oil on my face, Wendy."

"I'll bring you some face wash tomorrow, Maybe a face mask, too."

"Oooh," Mabel perked up. "Spa day?"

"Don't even think about it, pumpkin.” Stan ordered sternly, pointing his finger at her as he deposited the twins in the El Diablo. "Yous guys are on house arrest ― we're not doing anything fun tomorrow except givin' tours and flossing tourists!"

___________________________________________________________

Wendy brought the face masks.

"I think this might even be more fun than my idea of bedazzling my face!" Mabel exclaimed happily, patting her panda mask into place.

Stan glowered at the TV, sat firmly in his chair with his arms crossed. He might have made an imposing figure, if not for the cat mask he was wearing. It was cold and sticky and smelt like plants.

His house was in the middle of the woods ― wasn't that enough nature for his body?

"That sounds like a painful idea." Dipper shot an amused look at his sister, to which she just sighed.

"I'm unappreciated in my time," she mourned, earning a pat on the back from Wendy. The redhead in question was wearing a dog mask and was watching Dipper like a wolf. There was still one face mask left and one blank slate left for her to work with.

Stan was actually looking forward to seeing if she could convince Dipper to go along with them or if Wendy would have to wrestle the boy down to put the product on his face. 

Which was how she'd strong-armed Stan into participating.

Seriously ― she'd put him into a headlock and slapped the mask on him while he was choking.

It would have been impressive ― if he wasn't so humiliated by it.

She would have never even thought about it if he'd still had his old man body!

Ding! Dong!

Stan glanced over his shoulder at the door, moving to take off his mask.

Wendy slapped his hand down and glared at him.

"Fifteen minutes." She reminded him sternly. 

He growled in frustration.

"It could be a tour group!" he protested. "I can't give a tour like this!"

"It could also be a salesman or something." Wendy rolled her eyes. "You're not getting out of this yet, man."

"Wendy..."

"I'll get it!" Mabel volunteered easily, hopping off Stan's lap where she'd been pinning him into place. "If it's a tourist, I'll scream really loud so you can get ready!"

Well, Mabel didn't end up screaming, but Stan thought that she should have.

From the first twangs of a Southern accent floating through the front door, Stan felt his blood pressure spike.

He threw himself out of the armchair, no longer worrying about Wendy and her face masks, and bolted for the door.

Gideon smiled up at him in a false show of innocence.

"Why, hello there! I'm Lil―"

Stan snatched Mabel back and slammed the door in Gideon's face.

"Grunkle Stan!" Mabel cried out in shock, staring at him with the most wounded face he'd ever seen from her before. "Why did you do that?"

This was no accident, Stan! You did this!

Stan grimaced and shook his head to dislodge the unwanted memory. He fixed his glare on his niece and fought to stay in the moment.

This was a problem in the present, not the past.

"I'm not going to let that little fake lead you on, Mabel." He said sternly and crossed his arms. "He's no good."

"He's adorable and appreciates my style!" Mabel retorted hotly. "I'm just trying to make a friend. This is my summer vacation! I'm supposed to be out riding bikes and doing stupid stunts without adult supervision."

"You'd rather run off with a stranger than hang out with your family? You were just having fun putting slime on my face, in case you forgot!"

Mabel deflated slightly. "It was nice to do something I like with you and Wendy... but you're such a sour puss about it! Gideon actually likes doing stuff like this..."

Stan slumped, sighing. He ruffled her hair gently and pulled her into a hug.

"I'll try to keep the complaints down." Stan said quietly. "But no promises! I never did anything like this as a kid and it's strange to me. I― I never had friends as a kid, just a brother. And boys back then would've been in hot water for doing girly stuff like this. There ain't nuthin' wrong with it and takin' care of yourself. But the world was a lot more small-minded. Even for those free lovin' hippies."

He shuddered at the reminder of a certain long-haired guitarist.

"Yeah, I guess you and Grandpa would have been doing other stuff when you were my age." Mabel smiled weakly at him. "Kinda like us now. He's older than you, too. It must be weird being the 'teen' role model instead of being the little brother, huh?"

Stan's brow furrowed and he wondered how Shermie got pulled into the conversation.

He'd been so much older than them, so Stan and Ford didn't bond with him like―

Never had friends... Just a brother.

Stan froze.

Oh. Oh shit.

Ohnonono.

"Pretty weird kiddo." He said hollowly, ushering her back into the living room with Wendy and Dipper. He could feel his control slipping by the second and he knew he only had moments before he broke. Already his chest felt tight. "I gotta go ― make a phone call! Berightback!" 

As soon as Mabel crossed the threshold of the room, Stan turned on his heel and bolted for his bedroom.The door slammed behind him and he sank down against it, burying his fingers in his hair.

Oh, sweet Moses ― he'd nearly ruined it all!

He was grateful, for what seemed like the first time in his life, to have another brother.

All his life, Shermie had felt more like a stranger to Stan than a sibling. Too old to play with his dumb baby brothers, then away at war while his wife and son crashed at the pawn shop. Then Stan was on the streets and Shermie moved across the country to Washington. He hadn't even come to 'Stanley's' funeral.

In fact, the last time Stan had seen his oldest brother was nearly thirteen years ago when the younger twins were born. They'd sat together outside the NICU, sharing anxious looks as they waited to hear if Dipper was going to live through the night after the complications he'd been born with. Shermie and Stan had even shared a relieved hug after they found out the boy was going to be fine and Shermie shared a story about something similar that had happened with Stanford and Stanley.

Not only had the Stan twins shared a placenta, but Stanley had been breached. While the nurses were quietly, exclaiming over Stanford's extra fingers and shooting nervous looks at Filbrick, who had forced his way into the delivery room, the doctors had converged on Caryn and were discussing the possibility of surgery to help deliver the second twin.

Stanley, however, was impatient and didn't take being separated from his twin well, even as an infant.

There hadn't even been enough time to unlock the brakes on the hospital bed and move their mother to the operating room before Stanley forced his way out into the world. 

Poor little Shermie, who'd snuck into the room, was both horrified and amazed by the whole experience.

Little brothers, he'd commented while holding a tiny, baby Dipper, are a handful. You always gotta be on the lookout for them cause they'll give you a heart attack if you look away for a second.

And then he put Dipper in Stan's free arm, the other already occupied by a sleeping Mabel, and left him with the youngest Pines twins.

And Stan fell in love in an instant. So much so that he'd nearly gotten into a fistfight with Shermie about whose turn it was to cuddle the babies later.

But as much as he'd loved Dipper and Mabel, being around them was dangerous.

The more time he spent with his family, the more risk he took in keeping up his ruse.

So he'd stayed away and only sent letters and the occasional gift by mail. 

He had planned on keeping the twins at an arm's length this summer, but that was proving futile at this point.

He nearly let precious info about Ford slip to Mabel in an attempt to connect with her and keep her out of Gideon's clutches.

Stan groaned miserably and leaned his head back against the door.

"Oh man, Sherm," he muttered into the empty room. "Little brothers may be a handful, but older siblings are no picnic, either."

[ravenwolfie97]

okay i have to talk about this because it's been really bothering me lately and i need to say something before i explode

so lately i've been noticing on many videos, shortform or otherwise, that they include subtitles! awesome! super helpful and cool

but idk if it's always been a problem and i'm only noticing it now, or if it's gotten particularly bad lately, but... recently a lot of those subtitles are really really bad

slight tangential anecdote: i used to do some freelance captioning work in between real job hunting, and it was a good experience. i was already interested in doing it, obviously, but i was coached on proper captioning etiquette and guidelines to make it look as nice and readable as possible while also transcribing the audio as best as i could before my superiors would touch it up. so i do know a thing or two about proper subtitling, but even if you didn't you would Know that there are some serious problems right now

i'll give a few non-specific examples (bc i'm too lazy to hunt them down to show you). there is a pretty popular (i think) youtube shorts personality who mostly does reaction-based videos, like i think it's actually mostly tiktok stitches reuploaded to yt shorts. but anyway this person, along with most other tiktok people who have subtitles for their lil internet rambles, are probably only basing off of their voice, like there's some kind of auto-caption that gets most of the words right, save for a couple small ones. i can understand that especially for the reaction/vlog crowd who are just trying to pump out videos, but like. i also follow john and hank green. they also reupload their tiktok stitches to yt shorts and have subtitles. and guess what? they're flawless. immaculate. you Can change them. or maybe they just talk better idk my point still stands that there is issue here stemming from having the computer do it with minimal to no touch-up. which leads me to my next example

one of the first nails in the coffin recently was this one pokemon youtube shorts guy i kept getting where he'd look into old game saves. all of the videos are subtitled, but similar to the tiktoks, it appears to be transcribing the voice on its own. what's worse and the most important here is that - remember - this is a series of pokemon videos. saying a pokemon name and expecting an AI to understand what that is out the gate is insane. and it doesn't. any time a pokemon's name is said, it just spews out words that are vaguely similar-sounding standard english words. and it's never the same each time too, which is fun. this is where taking the time to edit or even give a smidge of a damn to the craft of your video really would mean a lot, because for as many as i've seen it turns me even more off every time i see those shitty subtitles. but unfortunately that's not the worst i've seen in the last few days

the one that hurt me so much i physically could not stand it, to the point that i left a Comment on how bad it was, was an edit of a streamer's twitch VOD. normally, this streamer uploads snippets of their streams to yt shorts and has really good and well-edited captions there! i usually have nothing to complain about from this guy. but this one particular video... i don't know if it's because it's an older VOD and someone's just been holding on to it for months, or if it was a huge rush job, or What. but this video had literally the worst captions i had ever seen. they were just slapped down in chunks, not even lining up with the people who were talking, a negligible amount of punctuation, literally the barest minimum of effort. but that's not all! let's not forget that this is an edited clipshow, and there are Effects and Transitions for not only the video itself but the text as well! so SOME amount of effort was put into this because it got actually edited into a decent-sized video instead of just being a small clip. it's literally makes me sick i am so unhappy about it

main point, TL;DR, moral of the story: for the love of all that is holy, please remember that captioning is literally an accessibility feature. some people cannot hear or are unable to listen to videos sometimes, and i can't imagine what a hearing-impaired person who relies on subtitles to engage with videos would think watching either of my last two examples. what makes it worse, too, is that i can't even tell these people to hire someone to do it for them, because oftentimes they DO have people to do that work for them. and they still fuck it up. and then they continue on, to churn out more content. ugh just take a moment to remember that captions are not just for engagement. they're a tool, and some people can use only those as their guide through your video. don't make it impossible to parse. the purpose of them is to be read and understood. and you can't do that if the sentences are in overlapping chunks or if your words are too non-standard to be translated by a computer

[hugsqueeze]

EVERYONE. EMERGENCY ALERT: IT'S GIRTHDAY AGAINNNNN YAYYYYYYYY 🌎🌈🌈💓💓💗💕💕💕💕💕💗💗🌈🌈🌈🩷🩷🩷👹👹👹🔥🔥‼️‼️‼️‼️ *STARTS TEARING THE ROOFS OFF OF HOUSES AND THROWING THEM INTO ORBIT AT SPEEDS SO FAST AND DANGEROUS THAT THEY COLLIDE INTO PLANETS AND INSTANTLY OBLITERATE THEM* HIIIII HAPPY GIRTHDAY TO THE ALWAYS UNENDINGLY EPIC AND BEST OF ALL TIME: @chalkpaste !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 👈‼️‼️‼️ HAPPY BIRTHDAY GIRTHWORMMMM ^_^ OMG AUGH I SUPER hope you had the most AMAZING and PROSPEROUS of days today ☝️ I hope that your birthday has been as swagful and delightful and lovely and life changing as you are YAYYYY *SPINS WITH YOU* 💕💕🌎🌈🌈🌈

[Bonus slightly alternate coloring under da cut + a (comically bad) first draft for fun]

Here's the slightly different version that I promised (base colors/no filter *smiles*)!

& OKAY I REALLY ALSO WANTED TO INCLUDE THIS BECAUSE I THOUGHT IT WAS (sort of 😭) FUNNY, but I was at work last week thinking about what I wanted to draw -> For Girthworm Birthday and I sketched out . This. On a sticky note LOLLL. Wow. Almost incomprehensible 👍

[juuzouclub]

kaminari is the type to dedicate a shot to you and miss horribly.

what’s worse is that he’s good at basketball

[lokissweater]

hey i really really love your fics and the way you write youre so talented! ive been searching for a virgin!yuji x virgin!reader for so long and my life would literally be urs if you wrote this. if not no worries, i totally get it.

sending love! - anon

OH THIS IDEA IS HOOOOTTTTT AND U BEST BELIEVE IM ALL OVER IT!! thank you for your sweet words and for sending in a request!! i hope you like it!! :] <333

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

oh my god, pretty!

{yuji itadori x f!reader}

summary: your relationship with yuji was semi new and cute, you both absolutely adoring the fuck out of one another since the moment you met. one thing you have in common though? you’re both loser virgins with absolutely no experience whatsoever, and on one night where you’re both innocently cuddling on the couch watching a movie— yuji goes NUTS.

warnings: MDNI. college!au, afab!reader, SMUT, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it ya’ll), accidental creampie LOL, yuji is a little perv, smut with barely any plot she goes straight to the good stuff, cursing, pet names, fluff, FILTHYYYY this is filthy, all characters are aged up.

word count: 3.9k

authors note: PHEEWWWW THIS ONE HAD ME MEOWING LIKE A KITTY CAT AND I HOPE YALL MEOW WITH ME!!! thank you for your support always, that is an absolute given, i love you and i love you forever. MWAAAHHHH <3333

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊

“are you okay baby?”

no you were not.

because yuji was in a black tight compression tee and pj’s while you both were watching a movie together and cuddling on your living room couch, the sleeves of his shirt accentuating his biceps and the rest of it squeezing over his pecs and torso, the brightness of your tv illuminating all of his sharp handsome features that had you gnawing at your nails in a nervous fit— him looking at you with pinched eyebrows.

yuji and you had just started dating a couple of months ago— his lively overly friendly personality winning you over without really much effort at all, and your genuine sweet one catching his heart the minute he saw you come into one of his lectures last year, looking soul killingly beautiful and radiant, the both of you befriending each other quickly as your interests aligned.

and you started hanging out on and off campus a lot more frequently after that— gradually falling more and more in love until yuji finally gathered up his jumpy nerves and asked you to be his girlfriend.

there was a problem though.

neither of you had had sex before, or had done anything in between the lines with other people before you got together.

it was the first thing that yuji worried about when he first started dating you— embarrassed and afraid that you would think he was a big fat loser with no game and that he would potentially run the risk of losing you, you maybe preferring a man of experience to match your own needs.

but when he admitted that to you, and when you shook your worried little head and told him you were in the same exact boat as him, he was fucking elated— his apprehensions crumbling down like a landslide and replaced instead with the giddiness of getting to do stuff with you for the first time ever, and him being the man (the only man ever he hoped) to get to do it to you.

but then there was another problem.

neither of you seemed to want to start anything, the both of you hesitant and scared because of your lack of experience— petrified of humiliating yourselves if one of you tried and pathetically failed at it or did something incorrectly.

“mhm! fine.” you smiled sweetly, your calm voice a completely different contrast to what was currently happening inside your reeling fuzzy brain.

you had both definitely talked about it, the subject of intimacy. but it was always something that the two of you reassured each other would happen eventually when you were both ready, that there was no rush— choosing to brush the subject off like it was nothing.

except it wasn’t nothing. it was never nothing. and you were both way past fucking ready, especially yuji, him practically ripping apart at the seams with horn dog need anytime he saw you wear those little skirts that you like so much, or whenever you’d straddle his lap during one of your daily makeout sessions— his hands literally trembling over your ass in attempts at being respectful of pretty ol’ you, settling for placing them on your upper back instead.

and you would internally pout, disappointed, because you always without fail noticed all of this yet you were too shy to mention anything or do something about it on your own.

“you sure?” he asked softly. “you look like you’re thinking about something.”

he raised a hand and gently poked your cheek repeatedly with his index finger, a silly smile on his face. “tell me baby tell me baby tell me baby—”

you giggled, “i’m okay! just zoned out.” you pushed his finger away, leaning up and pressing a quick shy kiss to his cheek that made him instantly flush pink in return, a wobbly smile spreading across his face.

in the midst of you retreating back to your previous position, yuji caught your chin with his fingers and turned you to look at him, your cheeks blushing as he stared at you with lovesick dreamy eyes.

“can we— um.” his gaze flickered to your lips. “can we make out.”

your eyes widened slightly and your hands grew clammy fast, cheeks buzzing as you stared back at him.

since making out was the only thing you both properly conquered, it happened almost every single time you saw each other, the act practically filling in and making up for the more lewd exchanges you both were missing out on, your kisses always sloppy and messy but heated— though each time it came around to it you were often just as nervous as the first time.

“s—sure!” you stammered. “you don’t have to ask me yuji… you can just— y’know… do it..”

he bit his tongue, your timidness for some fucking reason sending a shock of arousal through his veins and straight down to his dick as he tried his best to swallow it and not make it obvious for you.

“okay!”

he brought your face closer then and kissed you, a solid one at first, until you slowly parted your lips and ushered him in, deeper, your body moving closer to his on its own as he immediately responded with placing a hand on your leg to throw it over his lap, your mouths wet and slippery as he properly settled you to sit on him.

you wrapped your arms around his neck, the movie drowned out completely in the background as a sequence of lip smackings echoed throughout the room, yuji’s hands on your upper back like always as you continued to make out… until you felt a little stinging cramp in your knee— moving your hips a little bit to readjust, utterly unaware of how you accidentally applied pressure over yuji’s crotch as he sucked in a breath through his nose and pulled away.

“fuck don’t do that baby don’t do that.”

you froze, hands quickly retracting back to your chest. “what? what do what?”

“oh—” he froze, eyes wide and cheeks pink as his mouth opened and closed like a fishy out of water.

he couldn’t possibly tell you why, not wanting to scare you away by admitting that you grinding down on his crotch like that made his dick jerk and mind haze in the most filthy and perverted way imaginable, feeling like he wanted to dig himself a big fat grave of horny shame to throw himself into as he watched your pretty eyes look at him the way that they were, wanting that same look but underneath him instead—

your bent knee cramped up once more and you hissed, moving your hips again except this time harder, yuji’s eyes flying open as the grip around your upper torso tightened, a strangled whiny hum escaping his throat.

your eyes snapped to his at the sound, now feeling something hard poking your clothed pussy as your brain finally put fucking two and two together, your hand slapping over your mouth in embarrassment at what you did and over your stupid delayed realization.

“oh! yuji i’m so sorry i— i didn’t realize—”

he shook his head rapidly, his cheeks and ears red as he shakily smoothed his hands over your hips comfortingly.

“no baby! don’t be sorry it’s okay!” he quickly kissed your forehead. “i—it’s me… it’s not you at all…”

but there was something else behind his eyes, something you couldn’t quite pinpoint as he just stared at the place where your body met his crotch, hands slowly gripping your hips tighter in a certain way and… and actually moving you now in a certain way that made you promptly realize he was grinding you against him, pleasure quickly twitching at your clit in response as flat hands flew to his chest to stabilize yourself.

“what— what are you doing?” you stammered, your chest heaving a little.

“s—sorry!…” he mumbled, eyes still trained to the same area. “it just— felt kind of good… so..”

yuji peered up at you, a cautious look on his face as he eyed you curiously with his pinky cheeks bright— hesitantly indulging in his overwhelming sick need for you, as simply making out was just not cutting it anymore ever since he got a taste of how something like this could feel a couple of seconds ago.

and your thoughts were identical to his.

timidly, you slid your hands up slowly to rest back on his manly shoulders, the rough material of his compression tee under your fingers making you literally squeeze your hole around nothing, eyes nervously darting around his face.

“o—okay…”

his hand came up to brush some of your soft hair over your shoulder, his thumb moving in to caress gently over your hot cheek.

“can i… can i do it again?”

you shakily nodded, and he gripped your hips again before moving you just like he did before, your crotch coming down to meet his slowly and cautiously as your mouth partially hung open at how good it actually felt, yuji staring at your expression with blown out pupils and nearly drooling over it.

but he wanted more, his hands moving you then to grind on him a little faster, his hips coming up to meet yours at the same time as you shyly met him halfway— quick and stuttery until all of a sudden you were full blown humping into each other like rabid dogs, your tiny whiny moans setting him the fuck off as he captured your lips again to make out with you, fearing if he let you quietly moan like that for his ears to selfishly drink up that he was going to end up busting in his pants.

“y—yuji…” you whimpered in between kisses.

“yeah baby?” his husky voice sent another electrical shock of ecstasy through your body, your fingers gripping his shirt in tiny fists as you didn’t even know what exactly you were pleading him for.

but he knew.

he wrapped his arms entirely around you and moved so that you were laying flat on your back now, yuji in between your legs as he kissed you sloppily while grinding himself back on you again, him literally mimicking how it would be to fuck you as you squeezed his biceps for support, your thin pajama shorts feeling his hard cock bulging from his pj pants and rutting against your cunt desperately with every hump.

yuji, literally trapped in a dimension of arousal and nasty fucking thoughts of you with every moan that slipped past your puffy soft lips, had him reaching and tugging down on the waist band of your shorts like an animal, your baby blue panties with a little ribbon bow in the middle making him nearly choke on his spit.

your hand quickly came to clasp around his wrist, stopping him.

“y—yuji my parents! i don’t know if we should—”

“oh fuck—” he whispered, looking up to the top of your staircase and down where your parents were sound asleep, gnawing so much on his bottom lip in cock blocked agony that he accidentally drew blood.

and you didn’t know why, but the urge was unforgiving as you reached up and cupped his hot sweaty cheeks, pulling his face down as you stuck your tongue out and licked over his bleeding lip.

yuji stared, eyes wide, before he let out a low guttural grown and shoved his face into the crook of your neck.

“fuck fuck fuck fuck—”

you were fucking killing him.

he rolled his leaky cock slowly into you again, his shoulders trembling at the cold feeling of his wet boxers that were literally covered in pre cum the moment your pretty plush thighs sat over his lap, you speaking up.

“m—maybe—”

he pulled back fast.

“yeah?”

“maybe if you just— look. that… that should be fine, right?”

“yeah yeah!” yuji’s invisible tail was practically wagging over your words. “look uh huh! just look baby.”

you bit your lip, slowly reaching down and tugging as both of yuji’s hands went flying down to help you, pulling them over your thighs and down to your ankles before setting them behind him on the couch with a soft thud.

you kept your thighs closed, shy and timid as you realized yuji hadn’t seen you like this yet… your cheeks flaring in embarrassment as he pulled your knees apart and gawked at the vision before him, yuji looking at you like you had built the entirety of rome by yourself with your bare hands.

you hadn’t noticed yet, but your panties were drenched— a patch of wet spread over your lips that literally outlined the anatomy of your pussy to a t, leaving little to the imagination as his eyes stayed locked on your clit in a complete trance.

“oh my god, pretty!…” he murmured, his index finger coming down to softly touch and rub your puffed up clit over your panties, you squeaking in response and slamming your thighs closed again.

“sorry! sorry!” he sputtered, frantic as he came down to peck little kisses on your cheek apologetically, your eyes shut, bashful. “did that hurt? i didn’t mean to i’m sorry—”

“n—no!” you shook your head and slowly peeked your eyes open. “it didn’t… just felt s—sensitive.”

his shoulders relaxed in relief, nodding, his eyes widening in delight when you spread your legs back open for him again, your panties literally stuck slick to your pussy at this point.

yuji’s fingers pressed against your folds, him wanting to just feel the way your little wet lips mushed up against his digits, his curious hand directing him slowly up over your clit and back down by your virgin hole as he breathed hard through his nose, trying to get himself to calm the fuck down over your cunt and not freak you out.

but what he was doing felt good, him having no idea as you pulled your bottom lip in between your teeth with your eyebrows screwed together in euphoria, his ears perking up at the sounds of your sweet little moans and whines the more pressure he applied to it.

and then he got an idea.

as you were distracted getting riled up by his fingers, yuji shoved his other hand under his wet pajama pants and boxers, pulling out his throbbing cock and pumping it a little as his angry tip leaked with every jerk— a drop oozing down and landing right on your nub before rolling over your panties as he breathed out a string of hushed curses.

yuji replaced the hand on your pussy with his cock, his length and tip pushing up in between your sopping cunt and back down, completely soiling your panties with a mix of your arousal and his pre cum as he rolled his hips into you again, you not noticing at all until both of his rough hands came to grip and squeeze over your inner thighs, your eyes fluttering open as you wondered why it felt way better than before, them bulging once you saw his thick long dick slipping and sliding hurriedly against your pussy.

“b—baby!” you moaned breathlessly, but yuji literally could not hear you as his dazed droopy eyes stayed focused on your swollen puss while he continued to rut.

“uh huh..?..” he panted. “what’s wrong sweetheart…”

your words lodged themselves in the back of your throat as a particular rough thrust made you choke and clamp your mouth shut, squeezing your eyes shut in response with your sensitive nub pulsing as you felt yuji’s leaky sticky cum all over you.

“does it— does it feel good?” his eyes finally trailed up to look at you, his already fucked out expression and flushed face forming a yummy pit in your stomach that you recognized as your release whenever you fingered yourself, except that feeling no where near as good as what you felt right fucking now.

“mhm..” you moaned and licked your lips.

yuji’s fingers slid up from your inner thighs and to the straps of your panties, fiddling and playing with them as he rolled his hips like a little perv, his tip at times falling and literally sinking into your gaping virgin hole a bit— your panties a thin stretchy wall that frustratingly stopped his cock from going, slipping back upward instead.

“baby…” he moaned lowly, whispering. “maybe we should just have sex right now…”

you gasped. “right now?! i don’t know yuji my— my parents— and we’ve never—”

he leaned down and sloppily kissed you, speaking in between each smack.

“they’re asleep it’s—” mmphf— “it’s okay—”

yuji already had his middle finger hooked under your wet panties as he started pulling down, you squeaking at the cold breeze hitting your bare clit.

“i want to but— hic!”

he rubbed his tip over your entrance a bit, pooling your juice up.

“what if— what if we get too loud? and they come downstairs—”

he shook his head. “i’ll keep on a lookout pretty don’t worry about it...” he murmured. “you just relax while i pump my cock in, yeah?”

you whimpered, nodding quickly and pathetically as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down flush against your chest, suctioning tiny sucks on his jaw to keep you from moaning the loudest you’ve moaned all night as he started pushing in, yuji’s mind in a literal fucking state of delirium as his dick was finally gonna be buried in your cute pussy after wanting it for so long.

you hiccuped against his jaw, your arms gripping him tighter as he stretched you out so good, feeling a little pinch in your walls that made you spread your legs wider in attempts at alleviating it.

“ohhhh fuckkkk baby—” he moaned loud and you quickly clamped a hand over his mouth.

“shhh honey shhh—”

“m’sorry m’sorry m’sorry—”

his voice was muffled against your hand as he pumped deeper, your squeal catching itself in your throat and his body fucking shivering at the way your tight slobbering walls sucked him in without him having to even push, your hole clenching around him and pumping more strings of stray pre cum out inside you.

“my god do that again please do that again—” he panted, reeling his hips back slowly and pushing in at a steady rhythm.

“d—do what?” you panted, your eyes closing in pleasure.

“squeeze— shit!— squeeze me please please—” he begged, pressing wet open mouthed kisses on your cheeks as he licked up your little overstimulated tears.

“like— like this?”

you clenched your hole again and his body jerked, his choked moans huffing in your ear as he rolled and snapped his hips faster.

“mm! yuji my god—” you squealed and he placed a hand over your mouth, the both of you now covering over each others as he proceeded to drill his hips in, the couch squeaking with every messy hit.

your hand tightened over his lips the louder he moaned, your eyes silently pleading with him to be a little quieter, but him too lost in the milking of his cock and the way your fucked out face looked as he couldn’t connect the dots with what you were asking of him, suddenly your blurry brain coming into reasonable consciousness for a second as you became aware of the fact that you weren’t even using protection.

“b—baby—” you muffled against his hand. “we’re not using a— mmm! c—condom we need—”

smack smack smack—

“shit i don’t— i don’t have one sweetheart.” he stifled, and yuji only went faster then, harder and jerky as his awkward virgin hips jolted you up and down on him, your eyes rolling back. “s’okay i’ll just pull out m’kay? i’ll pull out—”

his snappy pace brought your brain back into your previous dumb erotic state, nodding dazedly as he scooched his hand down and shoved his middle and ring finger inside your wet mouth, your tongue slobbering over his digits before your lips lewdly closed around them and sucked.

yuji was not keeping a lookout for your parents.

“oh fuck baby you look so fucking pretty doing that…” he choked. “you look so so pretty under me and taking my dick—”

“mhm..” you moaned around his fingers, drool seeping out of your mouth and down your chin as you felt like you were on the brink of cumming and squelching all over him.

“i’m gonna pull out soon okay? i feel—” pant— “i feel like i’m cumming—”

you pulled back from his fingers with a pop and licked your lips, nodding vigorously as you squeezed your eyes painfully shut, your release washing over you like a prickly wave with your mouth hung wide open and your vision blowing bright white.

but in the midst of you creaming, you accidentally clamped your thighs shut around yuji as he tried to slip his dick out.

“fuck! i can’t—” pant— “baby open your legs please im gonna— fuck fuck fuck!—”

yuji’s cum pummeled inside you and filled you the absolute brim as he gasped and whined in your ear, his balls draining so much of it into you that it took no time at all for it to slip past your hole and onto your couch below, the both of you heaving heavily with your clothes stuck against your sweaty sticky bodies.

“are you—” he swallowed. “are you okay baby? i’m sorry i came inside—”

“it’s okay it wasn’t you—” you tried to regulate your breathing. “it— it was my fault… i trapped you in…”

you sheepishly looked at him and gnawed at the inside of your cheek in shame, your face only making him lazily grin and press a hard loving kiss to your cheek.

“it’s okay. we can figure it out later!”

he peeled away from you and sat up, his softening cock still buried inside as he slowly pulled out and watched the rest of his cum spurt out, taking one of his shaky fingers and collecting some before pushing it back in your hole.

“don’t put it back in yujiiii!” you whined.

“sorry! sorry sorry—” he grabbed your wrist gently and kissed the back of your hand, his pinky cheeks vibrant as he looked at you with a wobbly shy smile. “i— i couldn’t help myself…”

you giggled. “s’okay honey.”

he laid his body back over yours, being mindful not to squish you as he leaned some of his weight on his arms, cutely pecking your puffy lips over and over until he was satisfied with the amount, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck after.

“m’glad my first time was with you yuji…” you murmured into his ear, your words causing his heart to literally bang against his chest as he felt like he was on cloud nine with you underneath him like that.

“i’m glad it was with you pretty.” he pushed, looking into your fucked out eyes with sincerity. “and i hope it stays that way. just my dick.”

you laughed loudly, your hand quickly coming up to cover your mouth as he giggled.

you pecked his nose sweetly and readjusted your hips, your cum covered pussy brushing against his cock again, the blood immediately rushing back to it faster than a speeding fucking bullet.

he traced a loving finger across your bottom lip delicately, a little grin on his face.

you quirked a brow. “what?”

“can we um—“ he quickly kissed you. “can we try doggy style right now?”

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊

taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):

@cupcaketeddybehr @soobiary @roachfun @waterfal-ling @saebaey @reneinii @luvvmae @cake-with-the-cream @pixie-dix @2ukika @cramelmacchiao @hy3phiren @fushigurioo @wil10wthetree

[insert-game]

took scissors to my hair and i feel like i fucked it up 🧍‍♂️

[bizzyboys]

do u ever just wanna poke your eye out with tweezers